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HARVARD
COLLEGE
LIBRARY

/v\i

\-.v

HARVARD UNIVERSITY

LIBRARY

FEB 2 1 1990

ETHICS:

AN INVESTIGATION

or THE

FACTS AND LAWS OF THE MORAL LIFE

WILHELM WUNDT '

rROPBSSOB OP PIIILOSOrHY IK THB UNIVBKStTT OP LSIPZIG

SratiBlateö from tbe Second eerntan JEOitfon (1892)

EDWARD BRADFORD TITCHENER

tACB PKOPBSSOR OP PSVCIIOLOCY IN THB COBNBLL UNIVBBSITT

JULIA HENRIETTA GULLIVER

PBOPBSSOB OP PHILOSOrHY IN BOCKPOBD OOLUH2B

MARGARET FLOY WASHBURN

PBOPBSSOB OP PSVCMOLOGY AND BTHICS IN WBLLS COLLBGB

VOL- II. v^'^ ^

ETHICAL SYSTEMS

LONDON
SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO., LiM.

KEIV YOUK: THE MACMILLAN CO.
1897

ETHICAL SYSTEMS

HARVARD UNIVERSITY

LIBRARY

PEBii 11990

Ethical Systems

WILHELM WUNDT

fROPBSSOK OP PHILOSOPHY IN THB UNIVXXSITV OP LBIPZIG

MARGARET FLOY WASHBURN

PftOPBSSOK OP PSYCHOLOCV AND BTHICS IN WSLLS OOLLBGB

HARVARD UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

FEB 2 i1990

LONDON
SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO., LiM.

N£H^ YORK: THE MACMILLAN CO.
1897

7^/// J - ^^^- ^ ^'^ ^:l X-

t--

Vol. I.
Vol. II.
Vol. III.

WUNDT*S ETHIC&

Introduction : The Facts op thb Moral Life.

Ethical Systems.

The Principles of Morality, and the Sphere of
their Vaudity.

'harvard

lUNVE'^SlTYl
AW 13 1^'«

TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE

" I "HIS volume is a translation of the second book
of Professor Wundt s Ethik, comprising pages
270-432 of the second German edition. It forms
a concise history of Ethics, which (apart from its
intrinsic interest as a feature of Wundt's ethical
system) will serve to supplement Professor Sidgwick's
Outlines by reason of its more extended treatment
of Continental schools. The terminology of the first
volume has been followed, and English references
are substituted for the German wherever possible.
Especial thanks are due to Professor E. B. Titchener»
of Cornell University, for many helpful suggestions»
and for a revision of the proof.

MARGARET FLOY WASHBURN.

CONTENTS

Übe 2>et>elopment of Aoral XTbeorfes of
tbe Tnniverse

CHAPTER I.

ANCIENT ETHICS

PAGE

The Beginnings of Ancient Ethics • ... 3

(a) Pre-Socratic Ethics

. 3

ip) Socrates and the Socratic Schools

Plato and Aristotle •

[a) Platonic Ethics

(b) The Aristotelian Ethics .

The Stoics and Epicureans

(a) Stoic Ethics ....

ip) Epicurean Ethics

Transition to Christian Ethics .

CHAPTER 11.
CHRISTIAN ETHICS

1. The General Basis of Christian Ethics . ...

2. The System of Augustine, and the Pelagian Controversy

3. Scholastic Ethics • . . ...

4. The Fall of Scholasticism and the Ethics of the Reformation .

CHAPTER III.
MODERN ETHICS

1. The Development of Empirical Ethics . ...

(a) Bacon and Hobbes . . ...

(b) John Locke and the Intellectualism of the Cambridge

School . . . ...

{c) Shaftesbury and the English Ethics of the Under*
standing ....

33
38
41
48

53
53

Vlll

Contents

{d) David Hume and the Scotch Ethics of Feeling . . 73

{e) The Ethics of French Materialism . . 84

The Metaphysical Ethics of the seventeenth and eighteenth

centuries . • . ... 87

{a) Descartes and Cartesianism . . 87

{b) Spinoza . . ... 93

{c) Leibniz . . . ... 97

{d) Wolff and the German Enlightenment . . 104

The Ethics of Kant and of Speculative Idealism . . . 106

(a) Kant . . . . ... 106

(b) Fichte . . . . . 119

Modem Realistic Ethics . . . 134

(a) Herbarfs Practical Philosophy . • • I35

(b) German Naturalism and Materialism • . 139
{c) Utilitarianism and Po^tivism in England and France . 142

(d) Utilitarian Ethics as Influenced by the Theory of

Evolution . . . . • • 153

CHAPTER IV.
GENERAL CRITICISM OF ETHICAL SYSTEMS

1. Classiflcation of Ethical Systems

(a) General Standpoints for such a Classification

(b) Classification according to motives

2. Authoriutive Ethical Systems .

3. Eudaemonistic Systems

(a) Egoistic Utilitarianism .

(b) Altruistic Utilitarianism .

4. Evolutionary Ethical Systems .

(a) Individual Evolutionism .

(b) Universal Evolutionism .

Index op Names
Index op Subjects

160
160
161
163
16s
168
168

171
186
186
187
191

«93

Vol. II.

THE DEVELOPMENT OF MORAL THEORIES
OF THE UNIVERSE.

II.

270-I

CHAPTER I.
ANCIENT ETHICS.

I. THE BEGINNINGS OF ANCIENT ETHICS.

(a) Pre-Socratic Ethics.

HE earliest Greek speculation was for the most part
cosmologicaL Hence it took little interest in ethical
questions. The sayings ascribed to the mythical or semi-
mythical Seven Sages are crystallisations of popular morality,
which cannot be treated as the beginnings of a science. The
earliest philosophical schools, however, joined to their philo-
sophical endeavours efforts, primarily reformatory, against
the popular religion. The EUatics, especially, in that
opposition to polytheism and the humanising of the nature-
gods, which was begun by their founder Xenophanes, cleared
the way at least for later ethical speculations. The same
thing is true of the religio-philosophical sect of the Pytha-
goreans^ although, in spite of the gjreat stress they laid upon
certain external requirements of conduct, they can scarcely
be said to have reached the stage of reflection on the subject
of morals.* Nor do we find in Hcraclitus and Danocritus
the Atomist anything but isolated ethical maxims.* Never-

^ ZlEGLBR, DU Ethik der CrUcken und Könur^ L pp. 27 (T., is, however, of
• difTcrcnt opinion on this point. But the arguments uhich he adduces seem to
me to prove only that ethical influenoes were present in the ooniologioal specula-
tioos of the Pythagoreans.

* Cf. OCL these M. Hbinzb, Dtr Eudänwnismus in dir grieckisclun Philo»
scpkie, Abk. d. sacks. Ccs. d, H'iss,, phil, kist. CI., viii. pp. 694 ff.

4 Ancient Ethics [271

theless, in the facts that Herach'tus regarded trust in the
divine world-order as the source of all human satisfaction,
while Democritus, on the other hand, declared cheerfulness
and tranquility of temperament to be true happiness, we can
see the first flashes of the storm between opposite tendencies
which were later to come into conflict

It is, then, characteristic of the development of ethics that
it did not, like other sciences, especially natural philosophy,
begin with positive dogmas ; but that the first steps it made
consisted in denial, in the destruction of existing conceptions
of morality. Preceding philosophers had shaken faith in the
popular religion: the Sophists began to call into question the
moral ideas associated therewith. The Sophists, as we know,
gave perhaps less umbrage to their own time by what they
taught, than by the way they taught it They were the first
to treat learning as a mercenary career, — an attitude which
was an oflence against current morality. But the fact that
they occupied this attitude, to which we modems make no
objection, is significant also as regards the contents of their
teaching. They acknowledged no universally valid norm of
human conduct, but assumed that its motives were wholly
subjective and hence changing, just as human knowledge was
subjective and variable. In spite of this sceptical position,
the Sophists show a congruity between their theoretical and
practical teachings hardly attained by the earlier philosophers.
If there is no universally valid knowledge, then there are no
universally valid moral principles. Man, the individual man
with his personal opinions and wishes, is in the one case as in
the other the measure of things. Really, however, the lack
of a moral principle in this system of ethics is only apparent
Though all universally valid principles are abolished, there
remains egoisf9i, which the Sophists exhibited in their own
mode of life, inasmuch as they applied their knowledge and
rhetorical skill to the furtherance of their own interests,

272] The Beginnings of Ancient Ethics 5

evading as far as possible the demands which society and the
state make upon the individual. They taught subjectivism,
not only because they believed it, but because it was useful
to them. It was probably this fact rather than their opposi-
tion to the old worn-out cosmological speculations, which
rendered their doctrine questionable and hurtful to public
morals.

{V) Socrates and the Socratic Schools,

Thus we see that even the man whom Aristotle called the
founder of scientific ethics, even Socrates^ stands so far as
his relation to preceding philosophical thought is concerned,
throughout upon common ground with the Sophists. For
him also man, the individual, is the only object deserving
a deeper interest. What distinguishes him from his prede-
cessors and contemporaries is his estimation of the motive of
human action, in that he regards all those springs of action
which are directed towards the satisfaction of a transitory
pleasure or a transitory need as worthless, or at least as
subordinate ; while he maintains that only those of such a
nature as to call forth a lasting yet intense feeling of pleasure
are the motives really worthy of man. Duration and
intensity, though formal criteria only, arc traits easily
recognisable in the investigation of the internal properties of
the Good. Yet we are forced to conclude from the accounts
of his teaching in Xcnophon and Plato that Socrates did not
succeed in reaching a concept of virtue accurately defined as
to its contents. This failure is easy to understand, not only
because intensity and duration are merely relative marks, but
because the whole kind and manner of the Socratic investiga-
tion bore an inductive character, in accordance with which it
sought rather to exhibit the good in special instances, than to
include it in a definite general concept Hence the fact that
in these discussions not only do the good, the useful and the

6 Ancient Ethics [272-3

pleasurable seem to coincide, but certain relatively lower
kinds of usefulness are assigned an ethical value.^ Socrates'
whole view of life, however, would be wrongly judged, if one
were to construe it in accordance with such single expres-
sions. It was true of him, if of anyone, that the man was
greater than his doctrine ; and the latter approaches more
closely to the likeness of the man if we take it in its entirety.
In the requirement of duration we have an important advance
beyond the Sophistic scepticism, which had especially em-
phasised the subjective and variable character of morals. If
in the choice of motives the preference is no longer granted
to that motive which seems natural or pleasant at the moment,
but to that only which assures a lasting satisfaction, then the
choice is made ipso facto in behalf of rational deliberation.
It is only rational deliberation that can distinguish between
transitory and permanent goods. Thus from this postulate
there follows immediately the Socratic law that virtue is
knowledge : a law which carries with it the warning to decide
according to motives of permanent, not of transitory value.
But that which is permanently valuable, as it is fixed for the
individual consciousness, cannot be variable from subject to
subject, either : it must possess an universal value. In this
sense there follows from the law that virtue is knowledge
the second law that virtue may be taught. Only a
knowledge which has its firm basis in general principles
of human nature can be communicated by one person
to another. For this reason the Sophist Gorgias was
consistent with his own standpoint, when he assumed that
even if knowledge existed it could not be communicated : an
assumption which is the extreme opposite of the Socratic law
that virtue may be taught
But a further conclusion is furnished us by the thought of

1 Afany of Uie expressions in Xskophon's Mtm, are especially important
in this connection.

273-4] ^'^ Beginnings of Ancient Ethics 7

the universal character of the concept of virtue. If what
IS good and useful to one is so to others, then it cannot and
ought not to happen that the interests of different individuals
should come into irreconcilable conflict Where such a con-
flict is threatened, a solution must be found in a rational
balancing of all the real interests involved. It must be
confessed that this inference from Socrates is scarcely ex-
pressed in his teachings. His attention was so much directed
towards the conduct of the individual life that he did not
give their proper rights to claims which transcended that life.
On the occasions when, as Xenophon tells us, he declared that
man to be most praiseworthy who anticipated his enemies
in maleficence and his friends in beneficence,^ his standpoint,
that of individual utility, seems to have varied but little from
the current popular morality. Of course, however, we must
not forget that such isolated expressions are influenced by
the circumstances in which they were uttered, and that for
this reason they cannot always claim unconditional validity.
What is more significant for the character and tendency of
the Socratic doctrine is his reference to the two sources of
moral requirements, the written law of the State and the un-
written law of the gods.* Here he is the philosophic
interpreter of a separation which had taken place in the
moral consciousness of his time ; the separation between the
inner moral requircfnent and the external legal order. In
obedience to both of these Socrates saw the mark of the
upright man. This principle of obedience, however, lifts
him above the standpoint of ^oistic utility, which is
apparent in so many single utterances; and here is the
very point where his own example transcends the contents
of his doctrine, or at least makes the latter seem like merely
an imperfect expression of his moral disposition. Socrates
found his chosen life-work in teaching his fellow-citizens.
* Xbn. Mtm, ii 3, 14. * XsN. Mem. iz. 4, 12-25.

8 Ancient Ethics [274-s

To help others according to their capacity, to attain that
power of ethical introspection which had become a necessity
to him, — this was what he recognised as his highest moral
duty, which he could not forsake without depriving his life
of its meaning. None the less, however, was he penetrated
with the conviction, which he repeatedly expressed to his
pupils, that obedience to the laws of the State is the duty of
everyone. The conflict between the general duty of civic
obedience and that individual duty of fidelity to the inner
call, which he felt as a religious and moral requirement, he
knew no other way of meeting than by voluntary submission
to the death sentence of his judges, though it would have
been easy for him to avoid death by flight from prison or by
forsaking his mode of teaching. It has been justly said in
this connection that Socrates suflered death because life
without that chosen calling seemed to him no longer worth
living, and that thus his death was only an aflirmation of
the very eudaemonism which he proclaimed in his doctrine.
As a matter of fact, we cannot speak in his case of a
cat^orical imperative of duty, whose merit, as with Kant,
consists in the fulfilment of duty without inclination. We
have to do here with a need of happiness, which coincides
with duty, because only the fulfilment of duty brings happi-
ness and IS worth striving for. The Socratic ethics was too
much the outcome of its founder's life to regard the life
according to duty and the happy life {ßiKaim &v and cS ^1^)
as in general distinct But the realisation of such an unity
in one's own life is one thing; the doctrinal expression of
it another. While we not infrequently find the former
falling below the latter, the greatness of Socrates consists
in the fact that his doctrine is only an imperfect approxima-
tion to the moral fact of his life. If this fact were taken
away, what would the Socratic ethics be to us to-day?
Assume that he had escaped from prison as his disciples

275-6] The Beginnings of Ancient Ethics 9

wished, we might perhaps regard his sayings as an attempt,
well-meant but imperfectly executed, at a positive reform
against the destructive efforts of the Sophists, but the man
himself would no longer be for us the creator of ethics.
That he is this is due not to his doctrine, but to his life;
above all, to the influence which his life had upon that
greatest philosophical moralist of the Greeks, who called
himself his disciple, — ^upon Plato.

How readily the single utterances of Socrates lent them-
selves to different interpretations is most strikingly shown
by the Socratic Schools, which all, in spite of their decided
contrast to each other, honoured Socrates as their master,
and to whose adherents, therefore, we must allow at least
the personal conviction that they were his true followers
and the heirs of his doctrine. Only two of these schools
are important for ethics: that of the Cynics, founded by
Antisthenes; and that of the Cyrenaics, founded by Aris-
tippus. While the Cynics pushed to extremes the Socratic
indifference to external sources of happiness, the eu-
daemonistic side of the Socratic thought was seized upon
>vith equal partiality by the Cyrenaics, and developed
into a doctrine of external pleasure. The opposition which
we find between the two schools at this point is of great
significance, because it takes its origin in the nature of the
ethical problems themselves, and hence is constantly re-
curring under the most diverse forms. More particularly,
the Cynics and Cyrenaics are in this respect the immediate
forerunners of the Stoics and Epicureans of a later period.

In contrast to these one-sided Socratics, who appealed
to isolated sayings and acts, it was Plato who, entering into
the spirit of the Socratic thought, brought to consciousness
the unspoken word of the Master and expressed the Master's
life in his own works.

lo Ancient Ethics

2. PLATO AND ARISTOTLE.

[276-7

{d) Platonic Ethics,

Plato's philosophy rests wholly and entirely on an ethical
basis. Moreover, his theoretical view of the world is deter-
mined by ethical ideas and requirements. Taking his stand
on the Socratic law that virtue is knowledge, he makes it his
task to give the ethical concept of the Good the central
position in an all-embracing theory of the universe. Here,
in the first instance, the question arises as to how the Good
itself is to be defined ; a question which Socrates had not
answered, since he was only concerned with pointing out
the Good in single instances. The earliest Platonic dialogues
are occupied with this question, and the answers given to it
vary within the limits of the national ways of looking at
things. Bravery, justice, piety, and above all r^ulative
prudence, which Plato emphasises as the most important
virtues, were held to be such by the Greeks generally. In
his conception of the motive for these virtues, also, he
hardly differs at first from his prototype, inasmuch as he
seeks to show that virtuous action is, in special cases,
useful and productive of happiness.^ He betrays his
universalism at the outset only in the fact that he does
not recognise an internal diversity among the separate
virtues, but assumes an unity of the virtues corresponding
to the unity of knowledge.' No one of them can exist
without the others, for they are all subordinate to wisdom
and may be regarded as its special parts or applications.

Within the range of thought just indicated fall the
dialogues of the first, the Socratic period of the Platonic
philosophy. But in the last of these, especially in the
Criio and the Gorgias^ there is already discoverable

» Protag., 354-359* * Prti^-, 329«

V7]

Plato and Aristotle 1 1

the germ from which the doctrine of Ideas is developed ;
and the ethical motives of this remarkable theory, which
forms the centre of Plato*s whole later system, are here
clearly apparent. When Plato, perhaps influenced more
by the Socratic life than by the Socratic doctrine, rises to
the principle that it is better to suffer wrong than to do
wrong, he can no longer avoid the conviction that the Good
and the pleasurable do not necessarily coincide. It would,
however, be intolerable to suppose a permanent conflict
between pleasure and good. There is thus no way out
of the difficulty save by the opposition of permanent to
transitory pleasure; and, since the former is unattainable
in the life of sense, it must be sought in a supersensuous
existence.^ This fundamental ethical thought is combined
with the Socratic assumption that virtue and knowledge are
one and the same. The Good also, the object of all virtues,
is, in its real essence, but one : it is a world-governing power,
active in the forms of nature as well as in the thoughts and
deeds of men. Thus the Good becomes for Plato the contents
of his conception of God. But the attempt to form a scheme
of the world on this hypothesis is baffled by the facts of
imperfection and wickedness. The sense-world, then, must
be only an imperfect copy of an ideal supersensuous world ;
and the distinction between concept and sense-presentation
seems to confirm this assumption. We have in our concepts
the reminiscences of a supersensuous world, a world set free
from matter: sense-impressions are only the external occa-
sions for the awakening of such recollections. To every
object of thought there corresponds an Idea; the Good»
however, is the highest Idea, to which all the others are
subordinated. In the world of Ideas perfect harmony
rules ; there every Idea is in accordance with the Idea of
the Good. In the world of sense, on the other hand, the

' Ktp* L 329 ; V. 476 AT. and espec. ix. and x.

12 Ancient Ethics [278

purity of the Ideas is affected by their union with matter ;
here, therefore, the individual Ideas may conflict with each
other as well as with the Idea of the Good. Thus wicked-
ness and imperfection arise. In a future supersensuous
existence they will be overcome; just as in an existence
previous to this union with matter they did not exist

Apparently, the ethical thought upon which this whole
system is based is identical with that which lies at the
bottom of the religious idea of retribution. A similar
likeness may be traced in the inclination to which Plato
often yielded, to shroud his philosophical thoughts in
mythical form. Among these mythological illustrations
there occur phases of the retributive conception which
could find no place in the philosophic formulation of the
doctrine of Ideas : for instance, the notion of punishment
for sin, and a process of purification for the g^ilty.^ Still
more remarkable b another thought, likewise clothed in
mythical garb, but truly philosophical at its core, which
bears upon the question of the development of moral ideas
in the empirical consciousness. The general principle that
this consciousness beholds the Ideas under the form of
sensuous presentations involves an intrinsic relation between
these presentations and the Ideas, especially the chief of
them, the Idea of the Good. At the same time, however,
the Idea of the Good must not be presented to consciousness
in its undisguised aspect, but in a sensuous form, out of
which dialectic thought may create a concept adequate to
the Idea. Now this sensuous form of the Good is, according
to Plato, the BeautifuL He thus gives a deeper philoso-
phic meaning to the old Hellenic thought of an inner unity
of the KoKov and the «yaöoV. In the Phcedrus he connects
this thought with the mythological figure of Eros, the god
of Love, who takes possession of the lover as a divine

^ Pkadrus^ 248 ff. Phado^ IO9-I15. R^. z. 61481

278-9] Plato and Aristotle 13

frenzy, and kindles at the sight of beauty a love which
is the longing of the soul after the imperishable prototype
of the beautiful. Of all the Ideas, that of beauty is the
most radiant, and hence even in its earthly copies is
known through the clearest of our senses, the illuminat-
ing eye. Thus, at the sight of beauty there is aroused
a reminiscence of the ideal world. But behind this
reminiscence, which is called forth by the aspect of the
beautiful object, there lies a process of development, allied
to the development of knowledge from the sensuous per-
ception to the concept. The lowest stage is the love of
particular beautiful bodies ; the second, love of the beautiful
in all its manifold forms, — a love which still adheres to the
sensuous appearance, but seeks therein that which is
universal. The third stage is love for beauty of the soul,
for moral beauty. This, too, is at first fixed upon the
individual, the single moral personality; but in the fourth
and highest stage it rises to the contemplation of that
universal Being which is the contents of knowledge, and as
such the most perfect copy of the world of Ideas. Yet,
even sensuous love bears in itself the germ of this final
form. For the love of one friend for another, first kindled
merely by physical beauty, gradually rises to spiritual love,
and since this is occupied in a common striving for know-
ledge, it finally becomes the source of love for the Idea
of the Good and Beautiful itself, which thus appears as the
true object, though but obscurely recognised at first, of the
lower forms of love.*

This whole discussion, which we have here clothed as far
as possible in its mythical form, is the first attempt to find
an inner relation between the ethical and the asthctic. For
Plato's own ethics this combination had important conse-
quences. Through its means the system was preserved from

» Pkadms, «37-257.

14 Afuient Ethics [279-80

a danger which threatened it by reason of its antithesis
between the perfection of the world of Ideas and the imper-
fection of sensuous existence, burdened with matter. This
danger lay in the tendency to asceticism and avoidance of
the world which seems to be the almost inevitable con-
sequence of such a view. That even Plato did not quite
escape it is strikingly shown in the PfuadOy the dialogfue
which bears the powerful impress of Socrates' dying hour.
Here it is said that the soul, since it will some day return to
its supersensuous home, ought to approximate as far as
possible to a separation from the body even while on
earth, by abjuring sense-pleasure and withdrawing into
itself.^ The fact that this tendency failed to obtain permanent
sway is perhaps due chiefly to a lively feeling for the ethical
power of the beautiful, and to the conviction that the Idea of
the Beautiful cannot do without the sensuous form for its
realisation. Plato*s moral conception of life in his riper
years, as it is represented especially in his greatest ethical
work, the Republic, has felt the tempering influence of this
conviction.

It is true that even here the fundamental thought of
the doctrine of Ideas is still predominant, — ^the thought that
the world of sense has its permanent background in a super-
sensuous, purely spiritual existence, of which the soul bears
in itself an obscure reminiscence, and towards which it strives
to return as to its home. But the sense-world is at the same
time a copy of the ideal world, and it is so more and more as
moral action glided by wisdom succeeds in actualising the
Idea of the Good — the supreme Idea. In so far as man
accomplishes such a realisation, thus far his activity
approaches that of the Creator, who. Himself one with the
Idea of the Good, has produced nature in its various forms by
allowing the Ideas to have part in it : a thought which Plato

» J>kad0, 79-«4, 107.

28o-i] Plato and Aristotle 15

expresses in mythical form in his work on natural philosophy,
the TivKBus. But just as here the supreme Idea of the
Good cannot realise itself in a single natural form, but only in
the coherence of the world as a whole, so we find that man
in the more limited sphere of his moral action is capable of
producing the Good not as an individual, but only as a
totality, in the State. In proportion as a given State can
attain this end, it possesses, moral value; From this
point of view Plato describes in his Republic an ideal
of the State, setting forth such civic regulations as in
his opinion are most perfectly suited to the end in ques-
tion. And here the creation of the world, especially the
creation of man, furnishes him with a prototype for the
creation of the State, to be brought about through man.
Just as the human soul is divided into three parts — knowing,
feeling, and desiring— of which the first ought to have
authority over the other two, so the State is to be divided
into three classes corresponding to the parts of the soul ; the
class of the rulers, to which as endowed with the rational
principle there is assigned the exercise of justice, the guardian-
ship of the State laws, and the education of youth ; the class
of the warriors, whose office is to ensure the safety of the
State from external attacks; and lastly the class of the
fanners and craftsmen, upon whom fall the lower occupations,
indispensable indeed for the necessities of life, but ethically
valueless in the opinion of the aristocratic philosopher. To
these three ranks there correspond three principal virtues,
each the function also of one of the three parts of the soul :
wisdatn, the virtue of reason ; valour, the virtue of the spirited
part of the soul, the Qv/jlo^ ; moderation, the virtue of the
appetitive part of the soul, the cTnOvjjiia. These virtues,
however, are not to be thought of as absolutely separate, any
more than the corresponding parts of the souL It would,
indeed, be impossible to require the higher virtues of the

1 6 Ancient Ethics [281-2

lower ranks ; but each of the lower virtues must be demanded
of the rulers. Thus from the union of these three virtues in
their just proportions there arises the {oMxHci^ justice. This is
the virtue upon whose exercise the preservation of national
order is wholly dependent ; for through it the separate parts
of the State, each in its own sphere and in accordance
with its peculiar virtue, combine into a harmonious whole,^

The most noteworthy feature of this system of ethics
is its subordination of the individual moral end to the
universaly political end. True, Plato does treat the State
as the means which, especially in education, enables the
individual to attain virtue ; yet the State itself transcends in
importance this purely individual function, since perfect
harmony of the virtues can be reached in it alone, and never
by the individual. This strong drift of his ethics in the
direction of politics necessarily conflicts to a certain extent
with his earlier expositions, in which the Socratic indi-
vidualism prevails. In fact, we find the philosopher
abandoning the doctrine of the unity of the virtues, of which
he had previously made so much. Since the individual
is little more than a tributary part of the whole, he need
cultivate only a single virtue, that one which corresponds
to his station in life. The thought of unity here appears
only in the requirement that the leaders of the State, the
philosophers, shall combine in themselves all the virtues.
Instead of the identity of the virtues previously assumed, we
have the government of the lower virtues by the highest,
wisdom ; and the resulting combination of all into the
single harmonising virtue, justice.

While such a division and separation of the virtues betrays
an effort to do justice to the complexity of the phenomena of
moral life, in his latest writings Plato has given us \ht practical
sequel to this effort In so doing he has, it is true, departed

* Ke^ iv,-vi.

282-31 Plato and Aristotle 17

from the ideal standpoint maintained in the Republic \ but
by that very fact he has come nearer to the requirements of
life and reality. Thus in the Laws he opposes to the four
divine virtues of wisdom, courage, moderation and justice the
four human virtues of health, beauty, physical strength and
riches. Together with this higher estimate of external goods,
the philosopher puts the cardinal virtues more on an equality
with each other than he did in the Republic^ and brings the
significance of the practical virtues more into the foreground.
Wisdom formerly appeared as the root of moral action ; now
it is moderation that is chiefly prized. This change had a
profound influence upon his political views. The necessity
of class divisions, the rulership of the philosophers, are less
emphasised. At the same time we find other and purely
humanistic requirements, such as the purity of marriage and
the kind treatment of slaves, more strongly insisted upon.
Here Plato's views already approach in many particulars
those of his great successor Aristotle, who, in complete oppo-
sition to the idealistic and transcendental system set forth in
the Republic, endeavours to establish his ethics throughout
on the basis of actual life.

(*) The Aristotelian Ethics.

It is customary to find the chief contrast between Plato and
his greatest pupil in their metaphysical standpoints, and the
polemic which Aristotle in his Metaphysics directs against the
doctrine of Ideas seems to confirm this opinion. But on closer
examination one can hardly avoid the conviction that their
real opposition is on ethical grounds, while in their funda-
mental metaphysical views, taken as a whole, the agreement
is greater than the contradiction. What Aristotle combats in
the doctrine of Ideas is precisely that side of it on which Its
ethical import rests — namely, that independence of the Ideas
which is for Plato the pledge of a supersensuous existence

1 8 Ancient Ethics [283

to which all his ethical views are fundamentally related.
It is not the Ideas — not conceptual existence in itself— that
Aristotle denies ; he denies the possibility of separating them
from matter, except in the cases of the Deity and the rational
soul. But if the conceptual, the spiritual, exists in general
only in sensuous form, then moral action can have reference
only to sensuous existence. In this way the Aristotelian
ethics takes on a realistic character. Not " What is the good
in and for itself, or in a supermundane world ? " but " What
is the good for man within the conditions of his empirical
existence?'* — that is the question to which all the ethical
discussions of the philosopher relate.

He is, it is true, at one with Plato in holding that the
individual cannot attain the highest good by himself, but
only in the political community. Hence politics is for him
the final stage of ethics, and man he defines as d, political being.
But it is not only because it accomplishes higher ends that
political life seems to him superior to individual life ; but also
and chiefly because the ends of the individual can be fully
gained only with the co-operation of the State.* In the one case
as in the other the ends consist in the attainment o{ happiness.
There can be no dispute, Aristotle thinks, about the statement
that happiness is the contents of the Good ; different opinions
are possible only on the question as to what constitutes
happiness and how it is to be obtained. Aristotle's discussion
of these different views is conducted in a purely practical
spirit, each one receiving the consideration which it merits.
It seems self-evident to the philosopher that sense-pleasure,
riches, and honour should be recc^ised to a certain extent
as goods. They cannot, however, claim the position of the
highest good, for the highest good can proceed — and here
Aristotle is in accord with Plato— only from the functioning
of the highest faculty of the soul, reason. Now the right
1 Nictm. Etk. L i : FoUt. L i.

284] Plato and Aristotle 19

activity of reason is virtue : consequently true happiness also
consists in the activity of reason. We must not forget, in
discussing this conception of virtue as the activity of the
rational part of the soul, what a wide connotation the Greek
word Arete had. Virtue is for Aristotle fitness^ and in this
sense he classifies the virtues in accordance with the twofold
direction of rational activity. In its theoretical function reason
IS confined within its own limits, not coming into relation
with the other psychic faculties ; in its practical activity it
operates to restrain and g^ide the desires. Theoretical reason,
then, functions in thinking ; practical reason in willing. Each
of these directions of rational activity has its peculiar virtues :
those of theoretical reason are the dianoctic virtues, wisdom,
insight, prudence; those of practical reason are the ethiccd
virtues : here belong courage, self-control, liberality, etc. Thus
only the ethical virtues are related to moral action^ are virtues
in our sense of the word ; the dianoetic virtues are rather
capacities-^ they may be in large measure conducive to the
true virtues, especially to the most important virtue, justice,
but this is only the case when they influence the will — that
is, when the dianoetic virtue is partly transformed into an
ethical virtue. From this standpoint Aristotle expressly com-
bats the Socratic law that virtue is knowledge, and the related
statement that no one can knowingly do evil.*

This division of the virtues may well be called one of the
greatest philosophical discoveries of any age. By its aid
the sphere of ethics is, for the first time, accurately defined.
Socrates had indicated reason as the organ of moral action ;
but the recognition of this fact led him to overestimate the
ethical significance of knowledge ; thought and will became
for him indistinguishably blended. Even Plato did not over-
come this confusion. Aristotle was the first to recognise the
will as the specifically ethical function within the general

* NUom. Etk, vi. 13 ; vii. 3.

20 Aiuteni Ethics [285

domain of reason ; and for him, accordingly, moral virtue
consists, not in right knowledge, but in the good will, which
IS indeed dependent upon reason, but not identical with it
With reference to this activity of the will which is essential
for the existence of the moral virtues, Aristotle especially
emphasises the influence of practice. Although the dis-
position to these virtues exists in everyone, yet like every
other bodily or mental capacity it must be streng^ened
by practice. The stimulus to this practice may be found
in the fact that virtue is the highest good ; that is, it is
eminently adapted to produce happiness. Aristotle is too
keen an observer of human nature to expect that virtue
will be practised without a motive in the form of pleasure.
It will be sought only because it ensures the completest
pleasure. Of course it takes deliberation and insight to
discern the relation between happiness and virtue, and for
that very reason man does not act virtuously of himself;
education of the reason and of its influence on the will are
necessary.*

Though virtue has thus been recognised as the rational
guidance of the will, yet the real contents of the concept of
virtue is as yet wholly undetermined. This much at any
rate is a priori clear, that Aristotle has no reason for
assuming, after the Platonic fashion, an unity of the
virtues, or even a limitation of them to any fixed number
of cardinal virtues. We shall have to distinguish as many
kinds of virtues as there are kinds of rational volitions.
For a general definition of the concept of virtue, then, we
cannot consider material characteristics; we must have re-
course to a fonnal criterion in which the diflerent virtues
agree. Such a criterion is found in the fact that virtue
consists in the moderatum and guidance of the desires by
reason. Here the consideration suggests itself that all

* Nuom. Etk. il 1-3 ; X. 5, 6.

285-6] Plaio and Aristoi/e 21

desires, feelings, and emotions move between opposites. It
follows that moral errors, which arise from unbridled action
of the desires, show the same contrasts. Each vice is
opposed to another vice of contrasted properties : avarice to
extravagance, cowardice to foolhardiness, arrogance to cring-
ing humility. Now if virtue is essentially the bridling of the
desires by reason, it can consist only in always maintaining
a Just mean between two opposite errors. As a matter of fact,
between every two vices there lies a quality which we regard
as virtuous, and whose exercise we consider a condition of
human happiness. Thus courage is a proper medium
between cowardice and foolhardiness ; self-control is a
mean between sensuality and the ascetic's scorn of pleasure ;
liberality, between avarice and extravagance ; magnificence,
between meanness and ostentatious luxury; magnanimity,
between submissiveness and insolence; pride, between im-
moderate ambition and false humility; gentleness, between
insipidity and irascibility, etc Above all these special virtues
ranks the most perfect virtue, justice, which Aristotle, by a
slight forcing of the comparison, r^^rds as a right mean in
that it lies between the commission of wrong and the suffer-
ance of wrong ; or, according to another passage, in that it
gives to everyone his own, to none too much or too little. In
the case of justice we can see how perfect virtue is attainable
only in the State, for justice is impossible without the safe-
guard there furnished it by equal laws.*

It is characteristic of the realistic tendency of Aristotle's
ethics that with him the virtue which Plato assigned to
the third and lowest part of the soul — moderation or
temperance — is made the source of all the virtues, even
of justice. No less significant in this connection is the
position occupied by pleasure and external goods. Although
Aristotle gives to these only a subordinate value, still they

* Nkom, Eth. iL 4-9, iil — vii.; Pol. Hi. 4.

22 Ancient Ethics [286-7

seem to him necessary for perfect happiness ; they often
furnish aids to the development and exercise of the several
virtues. Thus courage requires health of body; liberality,
riches. For the very reason that they are auxiliary to
ethics, however, such external goods are actual sources of
permanent pleasure and satisfaction only to the virtuous. *

Having made moderation the central point of his concep-
tion of virtue, it necessarily follows for Aristotle that
certain internal relations exist between the true or ethical
and the so-called dianoetic virtues. He distingfuishes five
virtues of the latter sort, or to use an expression which seems
to us modems more suitable in such a connection, five
capacities and powers : knowledge, skill, insight, understand-
ing, wisdom. Of these, knowledge, understanding, and
wisdom are the more theoretical ; skill and insight the more
practical virtues, — inasmuch as the former have an internal
scope only, in thought, while the latter have a practical
sphere as well, in action. Hence they are more closely
related to the will and the ethical virtues. This is especially
true of insight, which Aristotle describes as a deliberative func-
tion capable of discerning truth in particular instances on the
basis of inherited experience. While it is not, indeed, the
source of the virtues, which proceed rather from a will main-
taining the proper mean between opposite desires ; yet it is
that which points out definite ends for virtuous action, since
it informs the will as to what the proper mean in each case
is. Insight has thus a kind of educative influence on the
will. As in all education, habit and the consequent instinc-
tive practice of the good bear an important part That
moderation which Aristotle, without including it in their
number, regards as a prerequisite for all ethical virtues, is
especially dependent on the habit of weighing opposite
inclinations.-

1 NUom. Eth, z. 4, 5. * Ihid. tL m I-I2.

287-8] Plato and Aristotle 23

While, then, insight appears as an indispensable correlate
even of the ethical virtues, Aristotle approaches still closer to
the Socratic-Platonic view in his estimate of the supreme dia-
noetic virtue, wisdom. It is for him the union of understanding
and knowledge : but its objects are not individual things ;
rather they are the highest and most general concepts.
Although in his Politics and Ethics^ especially in his dis-
cussions of Friendship in the Ethics^ which form a kind of
connecting link between ethics and politics, Aristotle tries
to do justice to the claims of civic society and the importance
of the practical virtues for it ; yet the philosopher's personal
bias betrays itself in his preference for the contemplative
rather than the practical life, and for that virtue which gives
the contemplative life its value, namely, wisdom. However
highly he may estimate political life, if the careers of
politician and philosopher are to be compared as regards
their inner worth, there is no doubt in Aristotle's mind that
the latter must be given the first place.

The highest satisfaction is assured by wisdom, not only
because it is the virtue of the most exalted faculty of
the soul, the reason ; but because it alone is sufficiently
independent of external conditions to allow of undisturbed
exercise and to do without external sources of happiness.
The generous man needs wealth, the brave man health ;
but the wise man relies on himself alone. Moreover Aris-
totle thinks that we can ascribe to the gods no externally
directed activities. Just as their happiness is purely con-
templative, so the highest happiness for man consists in
the enjoyment of wisdom«^

Here the Aristotelian ethics sounds a note which foretells
the future. If the contemplative life is most worth while,
it is but a step to the conclusion that this contemplative
happiness is to be sought in flight from the world, in with-

* Nicom. Eth. x. 7-ia

24 Ancient Ethics [288-9

drawal from every practical activity. If, further, theoretical
meditation is supposed to have a felicific power which makes
man approach the joy of the blessed gods, the next thing
is to give the contemplative activity a religious turn, and
regard it not only as like the divine life, but as an immediate
merging of the human spirit in the divine. Already in
what are called the Eudemian Ethics, which, though probably
written not by Aristotle himself but by his disciple Eudemus,
are classed among the Aristotelian writings, we find a
religious tendency, in so far at least as knowledge of
and reverence for the gods are here expressly termed
the highest goods.* We may say in general that the
variations from the master which are found among the
Peripatetics all tend towards the views held by the leading
philosophical sects of a later day.

3. THE STOICS AND EPICUREANS.

The philosophical schools of the Stoics and Epicureans
were influenced by the changes which had taken place both
in the political life and in the moral consciousness of the
time. The political independence of the Hellenes was gone.
With it vanished the source of that virtue of public spirit
which had constituted an important element in the moral
life of the past Alexander's conquests had widened to
a remarkable extent the horizon of the national views.
Oriental ideas of religion, Oriental customs, had made
their entrance. While the Greeks on the one hand
were imparting the treasures of their culture to other
nations, they were themselves becoming more and more
imbued with a cosmopolitan spirit, which, though it laid
greater stress on the duties of universal humanity, at
the same time inevitably led to a preference of the

^ EmtUtm. Etk. vii I4*I7« Cf, mbo Zbllbk, AHsMU mmd th$ Emrlkr
PerifaUtia^ tr. by Costelloe and MuirfaeMl, U. pp. 423 C

289-90] '^^^ Stoics and Epicureans 25

moral interests of the individual over those of the
political community. This change of attitude finds ex-
pression in the increased prominence which from this time
on is assumed by ethical problems, — a philosophical tendency
that was encouraged by the growing independence of the
several theoretical sciences, many of which attained a high
d^free of development in the Alexandrian period.

(a) Stoic Ethics,

The ethics of the Stoa finds its closest aflSHations with the
past in Socrates, and in that Socratic School which according
to its own opinion gave completest expression to the funda-
mental thought of the master's life and teachings, the
Cynics. This is a reaction from the development of Platonic
and Aristotelian philosophy that is significant not only of
the undue importance again ascribed, in the spirit of Socrates
and his immediate followers, to ethics; but also of the
personal direction taken by the ethical speculation of the
day. The thing which his countrymen admired in Socrates,
and even in some of his Cynic successors, Diogenes for in-
stance, was less the contents of their doctrine than the image
of their personality. Now, in proportion as the Stoics
directed their eflforts towards freeing their ethics from the
influence of special political and social conditions, and thus
making it at once an ethics of the individual and of humanity,
it became clear that the best method of reaching this result
was to derive their concept of the good and of virtue directly
from that prototype of the perfect man which they recognised
in Socrates, and, later, in certain distinguished members of
their own school. Hence, we find in the Stoics the prevailing
tendency to take a descriptive rather than a normative point
of view in determining their concept of virtue ; to describe
the actual character of a perfectly virtuous life rather than to
state maxims of duty ; a tendency which was strengthened

26 Ancient Ethics [290-1

by the pantheistic and deterministic leanings of their theology
and natural philosophy. Hence, further, the Stoics not only
revive the Socratic thought of the identity of knowledge and
virtue, but take especial possession of the Socratic-Platonic
doctrine of the unity of the virtues. True, this unity is for
them not an inner identity of the virtues themselves, as in
Plato's Protagoras, but their necessary combination in the
unity of the moral personality. Still, even in this sense we
find one of the virtues spoken of as the root of the others, —
insight by Zeno, wisdom by Chrysippus, — and to this one the
Stoics, influenced in part by the Platonic- Aristotelian division,
subordinate the four cardinal virtues, insight, courage, modera-
tion and justice. As regards the motives which lead to the
exercise of these virtues, the Stoics do not rise above the
Socratic standpoint in any essentials. The good is for them
the useful, and at the same time that which is according to
nature. It is in harmony with the theological character of
their whole theory of the universe that they should r^ard
the primary impulse of human nature as directed towards
the useful and natural, and against the hurtful and unnatural.
In accordance with this view they assign even to certain
external goods, such as health or riches, at least a relative
and conditional value. These goods arc useful to the virtuous
man ; but to the bad man they may become harmful through
the misuse to which they are liable. In themselves, there-
fore, they are neither good nor bad ; they belong to the class
of indiflerent things, adiapkora, lying between good and
evil. Since, however, especial emphasis is laid upon the moral
dangers which such indiflerent things carry with them ; and
since the care-free existence of the wise man who does not
feel the want of such external goods is given the preference ;
the n^[ative side of morals, the avoidance of evil, seems of
far greater importance than the positive contents of the
concept of virtue.

29i] The Stoics and Epicureans 27

The sources of evil are, according to the Stoics, human
passions, of which likewise they distinguish four, — pleasure,
desire, grief and fear. These are maladies of the soul, which
must be not merely restrained, as Aristotle and his disciples
demanded, but wholly eradicated. Thus the negative virtue
of apathy is more important for the Stoics than any of the
positive virtues. The ideal picture which they draw of the
virtuous wise man is chiefly characterised by this trait of
indifference to pain and danger, to the vanity and pomp of
the world ; a disposition which holds itself remote even from
sympathy, since the sorrows which claim our sympathy are
not after all real evils. The Stoic sage is thus stem with
others as with himself. Hence the individual will succeed
best in preserving that repose of soul which constitutes true
happiness if he retreats into solitude, where passions have no
chance to assail him. The Stoics extol the joy of the con-
templative life in quite a different spirit from that of Aristotle.
Kings and statesmen can never be truly good and happy.
Only the condition of the recluse philosopher who has
abandoned all desires, and whom no passions can any longer
disturb, — only this is perfect peace. But if perchance bodily
pain threaten to overcome him, he willingly withdraws him-
self from life rather than forego the repose of his mind.
Thus, as gloomy views of life became more and more
prevalent among them, the Stoics came to regard suicide, if
not exactly as a virtue, yet as a praiseworthy expedient for
the avoidance of evil, and an act by which the wise man
proves that life for him belongs among the indifferent things.

The practical ethics, too, of the Stoic philosophers is filled
with this thought of contempt for the world. They are, it is
true, far from undervaluing the social duties ; the pantheistic
character of their philosophy would make against such a
tendency, since even in the sphere of ethics it requires a co-
herence [Ziisamfnen/iang\ of individuals with each other and

28 Ancie?it Ethics [292

with nature as a whole. But they insist with energy upon the
indifference of class distinctions and national divergences.
All men are of one race, are at bottom citizens of a single
state; even in the slave one must esteem the man. Thus
the Stoics become the first upholders of cosmopolitanism. It
is quite comprehensible that they should regard the narrower
civic duties as relatively subordinate. They recognised
marriage in its moral aspect, but preferred the bond of
friendships which unites all the wise and virtuous by reason
of their congenial disposition, even when they do not know
each other. These statements are not always in accord with
the praise which the Stoics elsewhere bestow on the self-
sufficiency of the wise man. But the greater difficulty one
has in reconciling self-sufficiency in its most ideal form with
the universal needs of life, the more concessions to the
ordinary view of life must one make in the sphere of
practical ethics. Nevertheless, the ascetic character of the
Stoic ethics is always apparent in the preference shown
for the freest of social bonds, friendship, which is made
independent, to a certain extent, even of direct spiritual
intercourse.

(If) Epicurean Ethics.

As regards the practical applications just discussed, the
ethics of the Epicureans follows a course wholly parallel to
that of the Stoics ; and in spite of unlikeness elsewhere, a
certain similarity is noticeable in their fundamental views.
This kinship is especially marked in two points: first, in
the predominance of the personal element, which here, as
with the Stoics, finds its expression in a description of the
sage, enjoying true happiness, and shunning the stimulus of
a public career ; and second, in the strong emphasis laid on
the negative side of happiness, the avoidance of all those
pain -bringing disturbances which might affect it While

292-3] ^'^^ Stoics and Epicureans 29

with the Stoics the individualistic tendency is held in check
by leanings towards cosmopolitanism and universal humanity,
with the Epicureans it leads to an egoistic quietism, the
motives for which consist in utilitarian considerations of
the most trivial sort The sect thus becomes guilty of an
inconsequence, inasmuch as its members declare the State
to be an arrangement created for the protection and use of
man, while their own rule of life consists in not troubling
themselves about the State. For this is the primary
meaning of their proverb Xaöe ßidxra^ (Live in retirement).
Such an inconsistency is possible only from the point of view
of that short-sighted egoism to which, when it has made the
best choice for itself, the weal and woe of other men are a
matter of indifference. Among the Epicureans as well as
among the Stoics there is this lack of interest for positive
political problems. The bonds of marriage are to them
burdensome fetters. They too prefer friendship above all
other unions, precisely because as the freest of all it involves
the most advantage and the least disadvantage. The high
value which the Greeks as a nation ascribed to friend-
ship is expressed in the praise which the Epicureans
bestow upon it Further, while, like the Stoics, they
emphasise repose of mind as an essential condition of
happiness, the evil to be avoided is not, as with the Stoics,
passion, but pain. Not apathy, but ataraxia^ painlessness,
is extolled as the blessed state. Thus, while, for the Stoics,
virtue, since it consists in control of the passions, is a good
to be sought for its own sake, and from whose possession
true happiness first arises; for the Epicureans the relation
is reversed. The goal of all effort is happiness, and virtue
is only a means to this end. Hence the Epicureans consider
insight {i^poyfiiTii) to be the chief virtue, which is at the
same time the source of all others ; and among these others
moderation, as essential to the maintenance of physical and

30 Ancient Ethics \^9ir\

mental painlessness, is given a superior value. However
closely ataraxia may seem to approach apathy, the two
are far removed from each other by the fact that in the
case of the latter, where all passions are stilled, no positive
effort is allowable ; while in the case of the former a positive
worth is necessarily ascribed to the opposite of pain — to
pleasure. Painlessness makes the enjoyment of pleasure
possible, pleasure allows us to forget pain. Thus ataraxia
enters wholly into the service of eudaemonia.

But the eudaemonism of the Epicureans assumes, in
consequence of this dwelling on the importance of painless-
ness, a nobler character than that of the crude eudaemonism
of their forerunners, the Cyrenaics. Only that pleasure
which is not accompanied or followed by pain is a true aid
to happiness. Sensuous pleasure, which always involves the
danger of such an admixture of pain, is for that reason far
inferior to intellectual pleasure, which is wholly free from
this disadvantage. It is true that their materialistic con-
ception of the world, borrowed from Democritus, would seem
to make the distinction between sensuous and intellectual
pleasures one of degree merely, the latter consisting chiefly
in the memories which the former leave behind them. Still,
a broader view is possible here ; a view which as a matter
of fact was taken by the adherents of the Epicurean doctrine,
especially in later times. While some regarded sensuous
pleasure as the chief source of happiness, others, like
Epicurus himself, ascribed a higher worth to the exercise of
friendship and the intellectual joys involved in intercourse
with kindred minds ; and still others, finally, laid so much
stress on the purely negative element of painlessness that
the picture they drew of the Epicurean sage scarcely diflfered
from the Stoic ideal

294-5] Transition to Christian Ethics 31

4. TRANSITION TO CHRISTIAN ETHICS.

These mediating tendencies prepared the way for an
eclecticism which, while it obtained some prevalence in Greece,
proceeding especially from the Academic and Peripatetic
Schools, received a later and fuller development in Rome.
As regards ethics, to which it gave most attention, this
eclecticism approached alternately the Stoic and Epicurean
positions. But while these remnants of the Greek philosophy
were striving in vain to keep alive fast expiring religious
convictions, philosophic thought received a new and power-
ful stimulus through the influence which the Orient was
banning to exert on the Western countries, an influence
largely religious in its sources. It was the Nco- Platonic
tendency, which for several centuries had its seat in Alex-
andria, that brought about the transition from philosophical
to theosophical ethics.

In these echoes of the ancient philosophy, again, we find
something of an eclectic character. Especially do they show
a mingling of Platonic and Stoic elements with the religious
ideas of the ancient East It is, in fact, the entrance of
religion into the field of philosophical speculation that gives
to the period its peculiar stamp. As a consequence, the
ethical theory of the time may be divided into two parts : on
the one hand profane ethics, less authoritative in its character,
and concerned with the virtues of earthly life ; and, on the
other hand, religious ethics, which has to do with the higher
life, aiming always at the divine. The former is closely
related to its philosophical predecessors ; it is Platonic in
connecting morality with the doctrine of the pre-cxistcncc
and immortality of the soul ; Aristotelian in preferring con-
templative to practical life, while acknowledging elsewhere
the claims of the latter by a recognition of the political
virtues ; Stoic, finally, in its scorn of sensuous pleasures and

32 Ancient Ethics [295

its demand for the eradication of the passions. This latter
requirement is not, however, as with the Stoics, an end in
itself; it is merely a prerequisite for the attainment of the
highest happiness, which consists in direct contact with the
divine, such as is possible only in a state of ecstasy where
conscious thought ceases and the spirit loses itself in the
primal being whence it proceeded.

And so it comes to pass that the traces of ancient
philosophy to be found in mysticism are wholly extraneous
and adventitious to the theory. It centres in religious feeling
rather than in the moral consciousness. Neo-Platonic ethics
is thus a return to the point from which the development
of philosophical ethics set out ; moral postulates are trans-
formed into religious intuitions. But at the same time there
has been a complete change in the contents of these moral
postulates. Greek ethics, which though limited in scope to
the national horizon, was yet instinct with the joy of life,
has given place to an ethical philosophy which, while it
recognises the broadly humanitarian character of moral
problems, expresses the temperament of the hermit and
ascetic It is Neo-Platonism that undertakes the task of
rendering the best results of Greek thought available for
that system of morals which henceforward developes on th^
basis of Christian ideas. For it is partly in continuation
of, partly in opposition to, the views of the Neo-Platonists
that the b^innings of Christian Ethics arise.

296]

CHAPTER IL
CHRISTIAN ETHICS.

I. THE GENERAL BASIS OF CHRISTIAN ETHICS.

THERE are three chief points of difference between the
religious and moral philosophy of Christianity and that
of ancient ethics.

The latter, like all early forms of religion, regarded fear
as the ruling factor in determining the relation between God
and man. For this motive of fear, which we find emphasised
also in the Jewish theology, the teaching of Christ substitutes
the motive of lave, comparing the relation of God to man
with that of a father to his child. Again, the thought of
the fatherhood of God alters the conception of humanity
which has hitherto prevailed. The limits of nationality and
rank are lost sight of in considering the relations of man to
man. Community of faith, the expression of our common
sonship, becomes the only restricting consideration. Finally,
from the thoughts of the fatherhood of God and of a common
faith, whose external organ was the Church, spring the ideas
which Christian philosophy developed on the subjects of the
origin and future destiny of man. Since divine sonship and
brotherhood in the faith can be thought of only as spiritual
relations, we find the sensuous and spiritual natures of man
placed in an opposition which may be compared to the
moral opposition of evil and good: a view for which the
heathen philosophy in many of its aspects had already
paved the way. The dependence of the spiritual upon

II. D

34 Christian Ethics [296-7

the sensuous nature is now, in accordance with Platonic
thought, regarded as a bondage which is responsible for
all the evil in the world. But the gospel of the divine
fatherhood will not allow either that this bondage has
always existed, or that it will be eternal. While the old
oriental story of Paradise and the Fall furnishes an appro-
priate account of the original falling away from God; on
the other hand the current ideas of Hades and Elysium
offer a suitable form in which to reanimate the doctrine
of a promised and hoped-for salvation.

But salvation, according to the Christian conception»
cannot be effected by one's own agency; it is Christ who
in the Pauline doctrine has saved guilty mankind by His
sacrificial death. The community of the faithful founded
in His mission has become the dispenser of the divine grace
on earth. Although the consciousness of human guilt is
forcibly expressed in this doctrine, yet in the thought of the
Atonement there lies the germ of an external view of fot^ve-
ness, juristic rather than ethical, which is at least partially
responsible for the worldliness of mediaeval Christianity.
Moreover, there is no doubt that the limitation of redemption
to sharers in the Christian faith affected from the very outset
the moral and humanistic value of the GospeL The believer
in Christ could look down upon the unbelieving heathen
with a scorn greater than that of the Greeks for the bar-
barians ; for the heathen were not only deprived of divine
illumination in this present life, but destined to eternal
damnation in a life to come. However, there are no motives
more powerful than fear and hope in their operation on the
human heart ; and hence it was inevitable that the Church
with its means of grace should come more and more to
occupy Üie central point in the Christian system of belie£
In proportion as the faith of the early Christians had to
relinquish the hope of living to see Christ's return, while

297-8] Tlie General Basis of Christian Ethics 35

the believer found himself forced to accommodate himself to
this earth, so much the greater was the influence obtained
by the visible state of God on earth.

While it was the development of religious ideas which
determined the basal thoughts of Christian ethics, the latter
obtained their philosophical form under the influence of those
tendencies of ancient philosophy which were most akin to
the Christian theory of the universe, namely, Platonism,
and, to a certain extent, Stoicism. Of course the religious
assimilation of these doctrines made necessary many trans-
formations, which were not without their effect upon ethics.
For the emanation theory of the Neo-Platonists, which long
survived in the Christian sect of the Gnostics, the Church,
influenced both by the Jewish monotheism and Christ's
doctrine of the divine fatherhood, substituted a transcendent
personal God ; ui^ed by the necessity of finding a mediation
between God and the world, it borrowed from the emanation
theory the idea of a division of the concept of Deity
which yet did not affect its internal unity, and thus reached
the doctrine of a Trinity, in whose three parts the three
dominant elements in the Christian faith — the creative
power of God, the divine sonship, and the community of
the faithful — found their religious expression. But while
Platonism had regarded matter as the ground of imper-
fection and evil, such a conception was too far removed
from the world of sense to harmonise with religious views.
The Logos of Christian religious philosophy is therefore no
longer, as in the Jewish theosophy and in Neo-Platonism,
a purely spiritual principle; it is transformed, under the
double influence of the Jewish Messianic idea and the
gospel of divine sonship, into the Son of God become flesh.
Similarly, a continuance of spiritual existence only seems
insufficient to meet the religious need of the times ; instead
of the Platonic conception of immortality we have the

36 Christian Ethics [298-9

dogma of the resurrection of the body, while at the same
time the doctrine of pre-existence is set aside as an element
indifferent so far as religious hopes are concerned.

Nqw the dogmas of the incarnation and resurrection make
sensuous matter essential for the existence of the good
both in this life and in the life to come. The Platonic
derivation of evil from matter can therefore no longer pass
unquestioned, even apart from the fact that the solution
which it offers for the problem is too abstract to satisfy
religious needs. It is just this problem of the origin of evil
to which Christian philosophy, turning aside from the world
and centering all its hopes on a future life and the second
coming of Christ, directs its attention. And once more
the solution is furnished by Oriental religious ideas. Oriental
thought, especially Parseeism, had frequently given a religious
expression to the opposition between a good and an evil
principle. Within the Christian Church itself there springs
up the sect of the Manichees, who combine Gnostic with
Zoroastrian elements into a doctrine which opposes to God
an original evil being, and in like manner assumes the
existence in man of two souls,— one light and good, purely
spiritual, the other bad, united to the body. Such a doctrine,
howe\'er, is incompatible with the pure monotheism which
is the foundation of Christianity. Hence the orthodox faith
rejects the view that evil is primary in its nature, while
adopting the idea of an incarnation of eviL Adam's fall
is transferred from earth to heaven, and Satan becomes
a fallen angel. He b Antichrist, the complete antithesis
of Christ; and according to the doctrine of Irenaeus will
like Christ some day become man and rule on earth till
Christ returns, casts Antichrist with his followers into ever-
lasting fire, and inaugurates the millennial reign, upon which
the reign of the Father, everlasting blessedness, is to follow.
Two at least of these conceptions were destined to become

299] ^'^^ General Basis of Christian Ethics 37

a permanent part of Church doctrine : that of the incarna-
tion of evil in Satan as the fallen angel, and the related
thought, of no little ethical importance, that evil is not
original, but came into the world with the fall of man.
The assumption of such a special incarnation of the principle
of evil does not, however, preclude the continued influence
of the Platonic theory that matter contaminates spirit
Christian philosophy finds evil everywhere operative in the
sensuous nature of man, in his sensuous impulses, his striving
for sensuous good. Mortification of the flesh is therefore an
important means to the attainment of divine grace. While
this asceticism does not regard worldly possessions, marriage,
and public activity as actually sinful, it finds a special merit
in the abstemiousness which casts contempt on all such
goods. In such ideas as these, necessarily limited in their
application to a comparatively small part of the Christian
community, we find the germ of a twofold morality, ethically
worthless, which involves on the one hand a more rigid
separation of the spiritual from the worldly realm, and on
the other hand the development of monastic life.

That a theory of the universe which sprang from so
various sources and hence included so manifold contradic-
tions should for more than a thousand years have exerted a
compelling influence upon minds among whom were numbered
the greatest and most independent thinkers, is surely one of
the most remarkable phenomena in the history of the human
intellect Its explanation is to be found largely in the power
of the fundamental ethical conceptions of love and grace,
whose hold on humanity, with its deep need of consolation,
was all the stronger by reason of the contrast they presented
with the actual life of a rude and violent age. An important
factor in the process by which diverse elements were unified
into a single body of doctrine consisted in the unity of Church
government, which now took the place of the original fellow-

38 Christian Ethics [29^300

ship of the faithful, and preserved unanimity of opinion by
the force of external authority. These conditions are respon-
sible for the twofold character of constraint which stamps
itself upon Christian ethics. The religious consciousness is
constrained into accepting the philosophic opinions received
by the Church, while, on the other hand, philosophic doctrines
are constrained into agreement with the articles of faith
which religious tradition approves. The common product of
religious faith and philosophical speculation, thus developed,
is the body of Church dogma, which becomes definitive for the
problems as for the first principles of ethics. Naturally, how-
ever, its lines are less firmly laid down at the beginning of
Christian philosophy, when the contents of dogma is yet in
the formative stage. Hence it is in this period that we find
the views of the various Church philosophers exerting most
influence upon the growth of the ecclesiastical structure.^

2. THE SYSTEM OF AUGUSTINE, AND THE PELAGIAN
CONTROVERSY.

By far the most important teacher of the Church as regards
his permanent influence upon ethics is Augustine. Christian
literature hardly shows his equal in philosophic gifts. In
epistemolc^[y he anticipates the fundamental thought of
Descartes* Meditations ; and his ethical discussions contain
an analysis of the will, which, if we overlook its tendency
towards dogmatism, surpasses in penetration almost every-
thing that had been done up to his time.

But it is just up(Mi this keen and remarkable mind that the
current bondage to religious traditions and conceptioas
reacts roost noticeably. Unable to give conceptual unity to

> TIk tbUoviBgexpontkMaiiBt confine itself to UiechkfpomU in tlw
wßBBk of Chriitka ctlucs. A Bote tbocoqili dtoittinn of the safajeot will be
famd in W. Cass* C^tAuhH d, ckHstiicktm Etkik, espedaUy ^nL i, tSSi, end
a Thiob. ZiBGLBit's work with the umt title, 1S86. On the corfe sp oo di ng
dtinlopnicnt of dofan tee Haeicack, iKmry ^ I>t(gwm^ u, by N. 1

30CKI] The System of Augustine 39

the conflicting elements in his faith, he cast his influence all
the more decidedly on the side of mysticism. In opposition
to the Manichees, towards whom he was at first inclined, and
who sought to solve the problem of evil by the dualistic
hypothesis of two original beings, good and evil, he maintains
the view that good was the sole primitive existence. Evil
came into the world at the Fall through the arrogance of the
fallen angel and of man ; it is — and here we have a Platonic
echo in the system of this Christian thinker, versed as he was
in ancient lore — not itself a substance, but only an attribute,
a deficiency in the good, which serves in its removal through
the Atonement to manifest the divine justice. God has
allowed evil that good may be brought about thereby, for
contrariorum oppositione saeculi pulchritude cotnponitur — a
thought whose influence has reached our own time.

In like manner Augustine stands for predestination of
the will, as against Pelagius and his followers. It is not
possible, as the Pelagians assume, for man's free will to
obtain the good. Guilt having entered the world at the
Fall, it is only the grace of God which is able to direct our
will towards the attainment of any good. The Augustinian
doctrine of predestination bears traces not only of the
gloomy atmosphere of the age, with its pessimistic belief
in the depravity of human nature ; but also of a distinctly
religious spirit. It is at least an emphatic expression of
the conviction that human fate lies in God's hands. Inde-
terminism is always opposed to the deepest religious feeling.

Precisely this aspect of the Augustinian doctrine, however,
was immediately influential in bringing about the later
secularisation of Christian ethics. If the human will has
no power to earn heaven, there is danger that practical
morality will lose its value. For a single good or bad act
is but a drop compared to the ocean of sin in which» by
reason of its fall from God and original depravity» the

40 Christian Ethics [301-2

human race is lost The spirit of idle resignation, to which
this gloomy view gives rise, is far too sharply opposed to
man's active moral nature to be lasting. The ineradicable
impulse to win eternal happiness by one's own actions,
finding itself powerless in the field of practical morality,
necessarily comes to make the external cult the centre of
moral and religious life. Prayer, obedience to ceremonial
requirements, above all obedience to the Church as the
visible kingdom of God, — these are now the essential marks

. of a pious life.

For this view Aug^ustine is chiefly responsible, through
the influence of the contrast which he drew between the
temporal state and the state of God, the one of diabolical
the other of heavenly origin ; the one destined to be over-
thrown, the other to be finally victorious over the sinful
world The Pelagian controversy, too, is not without
influence on the development of Church doctrine at this
point Pelagius, fighting for the freedom of the will, is
chiefly concerned with assuring to the individual an inde-
pendent power of co-operation in the saving of his own
soul; while grace is still God's free gift, yet it can be
obtained through one's own works. Pelagianism thus
occupies a middle ground, endeavouring to make the mystical
significance of the doctrine of faith more comprehensible by
a treatment based alike on reason and on a careful con-
sideration of the conditions of earthly life. It is thus an
instance of that ever-recurring attempt to rationalise dogma
which, starting with the heterodox sects of the first century,
ends in the scholastic philosofdiy. The transition to
scholasticism b^;an when in the centuries after Augustine
a 'Semi-Pelagian' tendency became apparent, which met
the hierarchical need just because it united the heterogeneous
elements of difierent systems. To Augustine's apotheosb

of the Church it joined the doctrine of the utility of good

302-3] Scholastic Ethics 41

works, and thus became the starting-point for that external-
isation of religious and moral conceptions which kept pace
with the increasing worldliness of the Church itself

3. SCHOLASTIC ETHICS.

The great object of Scholasticism in its prime was the
transformation of articles of faith into truths of reason.
Important as it thereby becomes in preparing the way for
modem metaphysical speculation, it was quite as momentous
for ethics, where the effort after log^ical clearness led by an
inherent necessity to a preference for that external conception
of moral principles, juristic rather than ethical, the germ of
which already existed in many of the dogmatising utterances
of Paul, the apostle to the Gentiles. The fact that this germ
now ripened and bore luxuriant fruit was due ultimately to
the inevitable and increasing secularisation of the Church,
to which scholasticism as a whole formed the theoretical
complement

Thus we find the most prominent thinker of the eleventh
century, Anselm of Canterbury^ reducing the doctrine of thfe
Redeemer, that vital point in the Christian dogma of the
Atonement, to a kind of jus talionis^ a balancing of guilt
and retribution. Man has fallen; his guilt must be atoned
for. But man himself, with his limited capacities, cannot
make atonement for infinite guilt; therefore God has given
His own Son to take upon Himself the guilt of the world.
Only thus can infinite g^ilt be balanced by an action of
infinite merit The fact that this action is an event which
takes place quite outside the religious and moral conscious-
ness, and which hence has not the slightest relation to a
possible transformation of the sinner's own nature, is left
entirely out of account On the other hand, the external
character of the whole conception sufficiently explains why
the benefit which falls to the lot of humanity, through

42 Christian Ethics [303-4

salvation, is limited to believers. Besides Christ's sanctifying
merit, in which the individual has part without any act of
his own, there is always necessary a subjective merit on
the individual's part, which is, however, less that of moral
disposition and conduct than of faith in grace and the
Church's means of grace. The next stage of this doctrine
is the belief which gradually obtains currency that in
the lives of Christ and the saints there has been amassed
a surplus of justifying acts, whose benefits the Church can
distribute to individual sinners in proportion to their
repentance and penance, or in proportion to their perform-
ance of ecclesiastical duties.

From the outset there was no lack of opposition to this
profoundly immoral tendency of Church ethics. Generally
speaking, such efforts were associated with the heterodox
doctrines of patristic times. They were especially connected
with the attempt of Pelagius and his followers to keep for the
freedom of the will and consequent moral self-determination
their ethical value. Abelard, particularly, as early as the
twelfth century, emphasises in this connection the signifi-
cance of the disposition and the conscience. By placing the
distinction between good and evil not in the external
character of the act, but in the inner motive behind it, he
subordinates the mystical idea of the Redeemer to the
conception of Christ as a moral example ; and at the same
time, closely akin here as in his sympathy with classical
antiquity to the later Humanism, lays great stress upon
the value of the individual moral personality.

This attempt to emphasise the internal aspect of morality
as against the principle of obedience upheld by the power of
the Church, found yet more decided expression in Christian
Mysticism. In part, this tendency entered the service of the
Church, in the mendicant orders of Franciscans and Domini-
cans, who placed the requirements of poverty and humility

3Q4-5] Scholastic Ethics 43

first among their rules ; in part, espoused by individual men
whose moral and religious natures were deeply stirred, it
spread in silent opposition, or even in open resistance, to the
hierarchical system. It is the mystical element in Christi-
anity itself which makes against the secularisation of the
Church in these forerunners of the Reformation. But just
as this very mysticism had given rise to Augustine's
apotheosis of the Church, so the monastic orders, devoted
to mystical contemplation, became henceforth the most
influential supporters of the hierarchical idea; and for
centuries still the chief current of Christian mysticism was
under the direction of the Church.

But to these elements, which were inherent in the
original contents of Christian doctrine, other influences arc
now added, — influences destined to bring about a gradual
and fundamental alteration in the spiritual character of the
age. From the ecstasy of the mystics arose the thought
of the Crusades. But though the motives of these under-
takings were religious, worldly interests bore an increasing
share in their realisation, and their result was a rapid spread
of the secular spirit to all spheres of thought His ideal aim
threw a transfiguring glamour over the knightly contestant
for the possession of the Holy Sepulchre. Thus from these
wars there sprang that flower of knighthood which, in the
increased brilliancy of court life, bore as its fruit both
secular science and secular art The courtly art of poetry
vied with the learning of the clergy in a rivalry all the
happier in its results from the fact that for the first time
since the decline of classic culture the sources of poetry
were found in the national life and the popular speech.
Moreover, the intellectual horizon of the time was widened
by acquaintance with distant lands and people. Moham-
medan culture, at this time superior in many respects to
that of the West, began to exert an influence, in despite

44 Christian Ethics [305

of religious differences. The treasures of Alexandrian
learning had since the eighth century passed into the
hands of the Arabs. Mathematics and astronomy, medicine
and philosophy, had flourished here; and among the
philosophers it was Aristotle who was most zealously
studied. This survival of ancient learning became known
in the West from the beginning of the thirteenth century,
and a many-sided zeal for knowledge, with a reviving
affinity for secular problems, supplanted the strong
theological bias of the preceding period.

The Scholasticism of the thirteenth century bears distinct
traces of all these influences. As its aim is divided between
maintaining the value of monastic life on the one hand and
the worldly power of the Church on the other, so, in its
system of philosophy, mystical contemplation and trivial
logic - chopping, a supematuralistic metaphysic, and an
interest, of course purely theoretical, in empirical science
arc thoroughly interwoven. This lack of internal harmony
in its theory of the universe is not least apparent in its
ethics. The revival of secular interests, which found its
scientific expression in the dominance of Aristotelianism,
had an inevitable influence in the field of morality. But the
Stagirite had been bold enough to free his ethical principles
from all transcendental presuppositions and to limit them
to the conditions of actual life. Such a standpoint was
out of the question for Christian theology. The heathen
philosopher had to be regarded through the medium of the
Church's views at this point, far more than in his natural
philosophy, where his guidance might safely be trusted. The
natural result was an tcUctic ethics, half religious and half
realistic, which had in consequence of its mixed origin no
lack of contradictions.

The chief upholder of this eclectic ethics is the greatest
theologian of the thirteenth century, Tlionias Aquinas. He

305-6] Scholastic Ethics 45

follows Aristotle implicitly in his division of the virtues into
ethical and dianoetic, and in the high estimate he places on
the contemplative life. He terms all these virtues naturcU,
however, and reduces them to the four Platonic cardinal
virtues, — wisdom, courage, moderation and justice. Above
them he places, following the Pauline doctrine, the three
supernatural or theological virtues, — faith, love and hope.
The former are acquired, the latter bestowed upon the soul
directly by God. In accordance with their differing sources,
the former lead to natural, the latter to supernatural
happiness. For the rest, he seeks to establish a kind of
connection between the two by the assertion that in conse-
quence of the Fall we need God's help even in the attainment
of the natural virtues. Thus God is the direct source of the
theological virtues ; the indirect source of the earthly virtues.
The theory of will held by the Thomists is in complete
accord with this twofold conception of virtue. The will is
free, since it is subject to no necessity in the form of external
constraint ; but it is determined by our rational insight, which
chooses of two different goods that which seems to it the
best; and in order to distinguish in this choice what is
really best we need the divine help. Thomas is thus a
moderate determinist, and in his determinism there lurks
even yet a shadow of Augustinian predestination. But a
remarkable change of view has taken place, for the divine
grace, which for Augustine is all, the human will being
nothing in comparison with it, becomes for Thomas a mere
co^perator with the will. The divine grace can be obtained
through the merit of one's own works, and a certain worth
is allowed to worldly happiness, as well as to that of a future
life.

The intellectualistic character of scholastic psychology
and ethics is very evident in the Thomistic theory of will.
Throughout, the will is only the executive which carries into

46 Christian Ethics [306-7

operation the results of the deliberations and decisions of
intelligence. The concept of conscience has a special import-
ance here. For Aquinas, as for most of the scholastics,
conscience is a process of thought and deliberation, which
distinguishes between good and evil ; it is a kind of syllo-
gistic function which, like all rational thought, consists in
definite premisses and a conclusion derived from them, — ^the
judgment or decision of conscience. Emotion and will are
thus left wholly out of account The function of the latter
is merely to execute the decisions of conscience, and while
a certain amount of influence is ascribed to the emotions,
they are described in terms so wholly intellectual that they
seem like nothing more than an inferior order of rational
processes.

The strong intellectualistic influence which prevailed for
centuries in scholastic ethics shows how deeply intellectualism
was involved in the religious and moral foundations of the
philosophy of the time. Already we find the dogmatic
arguments of Anselm of Canterbury betraying the effort
to substitute lucidity of logical evidence for depth of
religious feeling. There were two conditions in particular
which gave to religious and moral philosophy this peculiar
stamp. The first was the externalising of religious life. As
ceremonial observance and obedience to the requirements
of faith came to be more and more emphasised, there grew
up a tendency to r^ard the energy of the moral will, in-
separable as it is from freedom of personal conviction, as of
little importance compared with theoretical belief and know-
ledge. The moral defects of this system of ethics are thus
the inevitable counterpart of its lack of religious liberty.
Further, the lives of its founders were responsible for an
intellectualistic tendency in the scientific formulation of
scholastic ethics. The natural product of monastic seclu-
sion was a system of morals where contemplation and

307-8] Scholastic Ethics 47

reflection took the place of moral action. And the current
belief that the monastic life was peculiarly holy justified
these moral philosophers in elevating their own ideal of life
to the position of an ethical ideal for the whole human
race. Intellectualism is thus rooted deep in the religious
philosophy of Catholicism, even as the ethics of will and
personal freedom, in spite of many lapses, which ex-
tend to the present day, is the very life principle of
Protestantism.

This lack of freedom and breadth of view explains why
ethics should be the field where scholastic philosophy can
point to the fewest original results. Christian doctrines and
the ancient theory of the virtues are joined without any
attempt at reconciliation ; and the care with which individual
instances of virtue are discussed makes the lack of any inner
coherence more apparent Consequently the one strong
point of scholastic ethics lies in the direction of that
tendency which always makes its appearance where really
great and creative ideas are lacking, — of casuistry. While
special cases, particularly those whose decision is a doubtful
matter, are discussed with the greatest possible thorough-
ness, usually from a purely logical standpoint, there is often
betrayed a shocking lack of comprehension of the moral
value of everyday life and its conditions, such as honour :
matters of which the contemplative seclusion of monastic
life aflbrded, of course, no adequate experience. We have
here the source of that 'ethics of probability' which is the
natural outcome of a casuistic treatment of moral problems,
and may be found to-day in the ethical compendiums of
the Jesuits.

48 Christian Ethics [308-9

4. THE FALL OF SCHOLASTICISM AND THE ETHICS OF
THE REFORMATION.

A Single step was all that was necessary to bring about
a complete separation between Thomas, with his adherents,
and Augfustine, with the older scholasticism. This step was
taken by an opponent of the great Church teacher, a
nominalist and a thoroughgoing indeterminist He regards
the will as absolutely free ; rational insight does not deter-
mine it, since man may be led by erroneous ideas; the
divine will does not determine it, for it may choose the bad
as well as the good. We have here a complete reversal of
Augustine's views. Happiness is not secured by grace, but
by one's own merit And merit does not consist in a spirit
of pious resignation, but in external obedience to the require-
ments of religion and ethics. While in its conception of
moral life the new theory seems to mark the extreme stage
of the secularising tendency in Christian ethics, it seeks to
compensate for this fact in the matter of religious obedience.
No more effective way of solving the problem could have
been found than that chosen by Duns Scotus, and still more
definitely by his successor William of Occam^ — ^the trans-
ference of indeterminism from the human to the divine will.
God requires obedience to the moral law, not because it is
good, but because it is His law ; and the moral law is good
not in itself, but only as the expression of the divine will.
God might have willed the contrary, and even then His will
would have been good.

Thus Christian ethics ends in scepticism^ albeit a scepticism
whose aim is to furnish a new support for faith, by declaring
its contents to be incomprehensible. But in ranking moral
laws among articles of revelation, it casts a reflection upon
the moral value even of religious conviction. For if the
moral law is based upon a divine decree, essentially arbitrary

309] ^'^^ /^2// of Scholasticism 49

and casual in character, there is no possible guarantee that
its content is invariable. Indetenninism, applied to the
divine will, becomes indiflerentism. As soon as the moral
law lost its firm basis in the religious consciousness — and
for this the most influential cause lay in the externalising of
the religious life — it was an easy matter to transfer indifler-
entism from the divine to the human will, and to elevate
egoism to the place of the supreme moral principle.

The Reformation^ directing its attacks against the abuses
of the Church, the erroneous traditions which falsified the
original doctrines of the faith, and the rationalistic tendency
of scholasticism, sought to heal the breach between morality
and religion. In opposition to the secular ethics of the
Thomists and the indeterminism and indiflerentism of the
Nominalists, it revived the views of the first Christian
century; while at the same time it set a higher value on
active morality and practical freedom of the will Finally,
by its rebellion against Church tyranny in matters of belief,
it advanced the cause of free scientific investigation, and
together with the Renaissance of classical antiquity and the
sudden development of natural science eflected a complete
revolution in the views of the age.

It cannot be said of the Reformation any more than of
Humanism» that it produced its own independent system of
scientific ethics. But it did infinitely more: the radical
transformation of religious and moral conceptions of life
which it brought about opened new fields for ethical specula-
tion« Not in monastic asceticism and unworldly mysticism,
not in outMrard forms of obedience and sanctification by
works does Luther see the justification of the sinner ; but in
a renewal of the inner man. He r^^ds morality as lying
not in the act itself, but in the disposition and tendency of
the will from which the act proceeded. The liberating and
atoning power of faith lies in the fact that it makes man do

II. E

50 Christian Ethics [310

right by an inner necessity rather than by obedience to law.
Hence no external standards can be applied to measure dis-
tinctions in the morality of actions. God has placed man in
the world of reality, and has given to each his own tasks, in
the duties of his own calling and life.

Christianity, repelled by the moral wilderness of declining
heathendom, had begun its existence as a community of
believers set apart from the world and expectant of future
salvation. Then came its victorious career through the
world. Its reception as the world's religion necessarily
involved it in inconsistencies, whose consequences, especially
for Christian ethics, were most serious. Only a Christianity
adapted to the needs of the worlds like the Christianity of the
Reformation, could solve these inconsistencies. In this
sense it is not from the Protestant standpoint alone that
the Reformation may be said to have saved Christianity.
Even on the side of Catholicism its tendency was to trans-
form, not indeed dogma, but the prevailing conception of
life. And with its religious significance, the ethical meaning
of the Reformation is intimately connected. In the per-
sonality as in the opinion of Martin Luther belief and
practice were identical, and so, instead of that reverence for
the contemplative life which in Christian mysticism led to a
total perversion of moral fact by religious feeling, we have
an emphatic declaration in favour of an active Christianity,
for which love means not the sentimentalities of feeling, but
the joyful fulfilment of love's duties. The ethics of the
Reformation is thus decidedly of the opinion that the sphere
of morality is to be found in real life, and in the duties
which his calling and station impose upon the individual ;
and further, that the noblest power of man is not knowledge,
not speculative absorption in religious thoughts, but a wiU^
which seeks the good for no external ends, but for its own
sake alone. Though Luther, like Zwingli and Calvin, felt

3IO-II] The Fall of Scholasticism 51

himself strongly drawn, from the very depth of his religious
feeling, towards the Augustinian doctrine of predestination,
yet for all \hx^t practical freedom of the will is the beginning
and end of moral action. An act is good not because it
harmonises with the law, but because the good is freely
chosen. Thus, in opposition to the scholastic intellectualism,
which had subordinated will to knowledge and described
conscience as a faculty of judgment and inference, the
Reformation regards the moral will as that power of the
human soul which ranks above all the powers of thought
and knowledge.

It was by its defence of these fundamental principles of
practical ethics, rather than by the further elaborations of
its ethical theory, which remained in many respects under
the influence of dogmatic and even in part of scholastic
traditions, that the Reformation determined the tendency
of modem ethics. It was not to be expected that the
Reformation spirit would develope to its final result without
arousing opposition from many quarters, or that it would
escape the effects of the older forces which worked along
with it The period of Enlightenment which followed the
Reformation may almost be said to have inclined more to the
Nominalism and Intellectualism of departing Scholasticism
than to the Protestant principle of freedom. Hence the
influence upon ethics of the new quickening of the religious
consciousness which took place in the next period was rather
n^^tive than positive. While it is to the Reformation that
thought chiefly owes its emancipation from the authority
of the Church, the subsequent developments of ethics are
distinctly of the nature of a reaction against the extreme
religious tendency of the previous age. Here, as in all other
departments of knowledge, we see the influence of the power-
ful impetus given to science in the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries. It was this spirit which stimulated the applica-

52 Christian Ethics [311

tion of empirical investigation even to moral facts and the
derivation of these facts from the natural conditions of
human life. Before long, however, we find a metaphysical
tendency running counter to Empiricism, a tendency which,
while it seeks in part to give a new expression to the
standpoint of religious ethics, and to reconcile it with
that of secular ethics, may also be said to have worked
with empiricism, though after a different fashion, for the
secularisation of morals, in that it aims to substitute philo-
sophical concepts for religious ideas.

312]

CHAPTER IIL
MODERN ETHICS.

I. THE DEVELOPMENT OF EMPIRICAL ETHICS.

{a) Bacon and Hobbes.

SCHOLASTICISM and certain tendencies in Protestant-
ism had combined to prepare the way for a more secular
ethics, which was chiefly occupied with investigating the
empirical conditions of moral life. On the one hand, the
Thomistic distinction between natural and theol<^ical virtues
had allowed freer play to worldly influences; on the other
hand, the Protestant sects had revived in their controversies
the dispute of the first Christian centuries concerning the
worth or worthlessness of the activity of the human will.*
The Arminians and Latitudinarians, in opposition to the
mystical view of the Atonement held by Luther and Calvin
on the authority of Augustine, sought, like the Pelagians
before them, to emphasise freedom of will and personal merit
This more liberal attitude involved a larger tolerance towards
the adherents of other faiths. While religion was still valued»
it hcgani to be regarded rather as the completion and final
stage of morality than as its indispensable condition ; hence
the natural inference that if a man only obeyed the require-
ments of morality, he might be happy in any religion« It
was upon this basis that the empirical tendency of moral
philosophy developed, — a tendency whose starting-point was
in England.

> Cf. POnjbr, Hist0ry of Christian Philosophy of Religion from the Ktfot
iion to Kanif tnuisUted by W. Htstie.

54 Moderet Ethics [312-3

As elsewhere, so in the realm of ethics, the Baconian
philosophy opened new fields for thought Bacon, who in-
tentionally avoided conflict with theology by relegating
religion to a future life, and claiming this present world
as the province of philosophy, divided the problem of the
Summum Bonum, as belonging wholly to religion, from the
philosophy of morals, which has to do only with practical
morality in the present life, and with the finite and relative
goods thereby attainable. According to him this practical
morality is independent of religious convictions; even the
atheist may adopt it True, the perfection of man is attained
only when religious feeling is added to and elevates the ethical
sentiments. But the superstitious errors of religion are hurt-
ful to morals; indeed, superstition and the fanaticism that
springs from it are more dangerous to morality than
unbelief. Bacon's position thus resembles that of the
philosopher whom of all the ancients he most hated,
Aristotle ; that is, he completely separates the spheres of
religion and ethics. But unlike his great predecessor, his
problem is not so much to define the concept of the Good
and classify the virtues on the basis thereby obtained, as
to investigate the sources and motives of morality, and, above
all, its applications. His criticism on previous philosophers,
here as in other fields, touches their n^lect to make any
practical application of the method of discovery. Bacon,
however, regards as the source of morality the Lux naturalis^
the natural law dwelling in every man ; concerning whose
origin he gives no further account, so that it remains doubt-
ful whether he means an innate faculty or a power of insight
which arises from experience. Bacon here fails to distinguish
between the two opposite tendencies which developed in
later English ethics. On the other hand, he r^ards the
estimation of the different forms of moral good as wholly
a matter of experience, and thus seeks to base his most

313-4] The Development of Empirical Ethics 55

important moral distinctions on the actual relations of
human life. Hence for him the good coincides under all
circumstances with the useful The useful, again, has a
double object : the welfare of the individual and that of the
community. Individual welfare consists in the satisfaction
of the individual's natural instincts, self-preservation, self-
perfection and reproduction. The welfare of the community
consists in the satisfaction of those needs which spring from
the relations of the human species, and which impose upon
every individual certain duties towards humanity at large
as well as towards the particular sphere of society in which
he finds himself. As for the question whether individual
or social welfare is to be preferred. Bacon thinks there can
be no doubt about the answer, for Nature herself points out
the true way, by striving at all times, often at the expense
of the individual, to preserve the species and the whole. True
virtue, therefore, consists in action for the common good; and
he objects, evidently not with entire justice, to the theories
of antiquity, on the ground that they had in mind only
individual welfare. Such a supposition, he thinks, is the
only one that will account for their wholly perverted view
that the contemplative life is to be preferred above all others;
whereas as a matter of fact the life of action is the only one
worth while.*

Three points are especially noteworthy about these views
of Bacon's, whose value lies rather in their sug^estiveness
than in their thoroughness. First, we note the complete
separation of morality from religion, the secularisation
of ethics; second, the equally complete separation of
ethics from all metaphysical presuppositions, and the
substitution of an effort to discover the psychological
motives of morality, motives whose nature is as yet left

* Ik dignit, it augment. uUnt.^ lib. vil Sirmones fidtla^ cspec l6, 17,
56-59.

56 Modern Ethics [314-5

somewhat indefinite. In the third place, we have the
assumption of public utility as the ultimate end of morals,
and the consequent identification of the moral with that
which is beneficial to the majority.

As r^[ards these three points the work of Bacon was
continued by Hobbes. Although the absolutism of the
latter reflects the peculiar influence of the age in which
he lived and the political party he espoused, yet in regard
to the general basis of his thought he is on common ground
with the later liberal adherents of the Baconian doctrine.
But he surpasses them all in penetration and keenness of
understanding. This logical bent, moreover, is the chief
cause of the onesidedness of his views. For him the life
of feeling does not exist Like the Scholastics, he wishes
to reduce everything to the clearness of logical and mathe-
matical ratiocination. While this aim makes him a most
decided partisan of the Baconian doctrine of utility, yet it
is irreconcilable with the Baconian separation of the spheres
of religion and ethics. For Hobbes, the natural moral
law consists in a correct weighing of the beneficial or
harmful consequences of an act A breach of the law
b therefore an error of the understanding merely ; it can
proceed only from false deduction, since nobody inten-
tionally acts contrary to his own advantage. It is impossible
that divine law, which is contained in the moral teach-
ings of Holy Scripture, should have any other contents
than that of natural law. Just as the latter furnishes a
confirmation of the truth of Christianity, so the former finds
its sanction in the latter. Further, the civil law, like the
religious law, cannot contradict the law of nature, for its
aim is merely to determine what is usefiil to individuals
in their common life together. Thus these three laws
have the same object, the advantage and welfare of

315-6] T^he Development of Empirical Ethics 57

mankind. In the event of an apparent conflict between
them, which can result only from some error, Hobbes has
no doubt as to the solution. The decision cannot rest
with individual opinion, unless the peace of society, that
indispensable condition of all useful endeavour, is to be
destroyed ; nor can the commands of religion be decisive,
for they rest on individual conception and interpretation.
The civil law alone, then, must be the supreme court of
appeal. Not only must it settle every conflict between indi-
vidual interests ; but the final determination of the true con-
tents of religious commands, as they are to be understood by
everyone, must rest with it alone. Hobbes, therefore, brands
all forms of religion that are not sanctioned by the State
as superstitious. It would certainly be an injustice to the
acuteness of the philosopher to suppose that he overlooked
the possibility of a special case, where the civil lawgiver would
be wrong and the opposing individual conscience right
Such a case is of course logically possible for Hobbes as for
us ; but he refuses to admit that it would ever be practically
real, apparently for two reasons. First, the civil law has in
view the welfare of all individuals, while the individual is in
the first instance looking out for his own welfare only ; hence
the latter will more readily err. Further, the individual is
not in a position to advance his own interest in the absence
of the requisite public security. Since the supremacy of the
civil law is the condition of the individual's effective activity,
it must always be formally right, though it may be for the
time materially wrong.

This position, which lays no restrictions upon the supremacy
of political legislation over the individual will — a supremacy
indispensable, indeed, within certain limits — is intimately
related to Hobbes' psychological derivation of the moral
law and the legal order. The fundamental thought here is
Bacon's, the thought that utility always determines human

58 Modern Ethics [316-7

action. But while Bacon discriminated between individual
and social welfare, and referred the effort after each to a
different instinct, according to Hobbes self-love is the
motive of all action ; the individual seeks to further the
general welfare only in so far as he thereby serves his own
ends. This egoistic conception of human nature leads to
the view that the state of nature is a strife of all against
all. To strengthen this position Hobbes appeals to the
fact that even in the civilised state distrust everywhere
governs human actions, and that everyone associates with
and loves those from whom he expects protection and the
furtherance of his own interests. Thus ^oism is for him
the only basis of the political order. The existence of
the latter rests on the conviction that the welfare of all
individuals is best attained when the many wills are sub-
ordinated to one. Absolute monarchy, therefore, is the
best form of government^

Here, then, we find Bacon's views developed in the three
directions which he had already pointed out The separation
of ethics from religion is completed by the distinction drawn
between the three spheres of moral law : natural law, based
on individual insight ; civil law, based on the knowledge and
will of the authorities ; and religious law, which has its source
in revelation. These three laws are, however, r^[arded as dif-
ferent forms of one and the same moral law, and in doubtful
cases the civil law is made supreme over the other twa
Further, the moral motives are now more exactly defined :
they are resolved into lexical reflection concerning what is
useful and harmful ; hence, moral action and logically correct
action are made equivalent Accordingly, while the deriva-
tion of natural law is, quite in the Baconian spirit, exclusively
psychological and logical, special metaphysical assumptions

' De Corpore Politico^ pars L; Dt Cive^ lib. i., cap. ii.-iv.; lib. ilLf cap. xv.;
Leviathan^ pan L ; Human Natun^ chapi TiL-xiii.

317] TJie Development of Empirical Ethics 59

now become necessary to explain the agreement of religious
and civil with natural law. In the case of religious law,
it is assumed that we have, under the form of revelation,
the same contents to which reason alone would have led ; in
the case of civil law, that, on account of natural egoism,
the original state was one of war, which again could only
be obviated by means of rational deliberation, through the
recognition of a supreme will. As the ultimate end of
morality we have the advantage of the individual; the
welfare of the whole being considered only in so far as it
includes the welfare of all individuals. Thus the concept
of common welfare, left indeterminate by Bacon, is more
accurately defined, and its opposition to individual welfare
is removed. This is, however, at the expense of the
former concept, which entirely loses its independence by
being reduced to the sum of individual welfares.

(b) John Locke and the IntelUctualism of tlu
Cambridge School.

It is not surprising that a theory which ran so destructively
counter to all the views on religious ethics current up to
that time, and which did not hesitate to proclaim ^[oism
as the ultimate and justifiable spring of moral actions,
should call forth contradiction. But it is significant of
the prevailing tendency of thought in the period, that the
polemic against Hobbes which was begun chiefly by the
theolc^ians should employ, in part at least, the same pre-
suppositions as those of Hobbes' own philosophy. This
is especially true of the proposition that morality is always
based upon right insight, recta ratio. It is this assumption
which governs the whole ethical system of the Cambridge
theologian, Cudworth, and which its own originator called

6o Modem Ethics [318

Intellectualism.^ In reality, this system is a later growth of
scholastic Intellectualism in Protestant soil. At the same
time, it is in certain fundamental principles influenced by
the Cartesianism which had sprung up in France and
Holland just previously.

Cudworth, like Hobbes, regards man as a purely rational
being ; feelings and emotions have for him no existence. This
similarity, however, only serves to emphasise his difference
from Hobbes on the question of the origin of rational in-
tuition. Human reason is an emanation from the divine
reason; moral ideas are innate truths. He thus reclaims
for religious commands their unconditional supremacy over
civil law and the individual conscience. This intellectualistic
ethics, in its endeavour to emphasise the primary nature of
moral ideas, and to trace them under all forms of religious
conception, compares them after Descartes' fashion to geo-
metrical intuitions, as being in like manner contained in the
mind a priori. Hence a mere statement of them is enough ;
they are as little susceptible of or dependent upon proof as
mathematical axioms.

It is self-evident that this appeal to direct internal intui-
tion is no very convincing refutation of Hobbes' attempted
deduction of morality from ^oism. Intellectualism is sup-
plemented at this point by one of the most influential of the
earlier English moralists, Cumberland?^ He expressly states
that the end of morality is the fiirtheranu of the common
welfare. But he does not r^[ard the common welfare as
identical with the sum of individual welfares, even though

1 The True IntdUctm^l System •/ the Universe. London, 1678. (LaL editioo
byMosHBiM ; and ed. Lagd. Bat, 1773). ^. etpedalljr Book i. chap. !▼., No.
8-14, and chap. ▼. The doctrines of Intellectualism are more briefly exprencd,
though mixed up with all kinds of mystidsm. In Hsnky Mors*! Emkihdi'm
etkieum, UK VL^ opp. omn. L Londini, 1679.

* De legihu naiurme disqwisitU pkihs^pkkm. Loodini, 1673. C/, especially
chaps. L, iii., and v.

318-9] ^^ Development of Empirical Ethics 6i

rational deliberation must prove to everyone that his happi-
ness is best attained by promoting the general welfare.
As a matter of fact, even the legislator makes use of
this principle in punishing crimes against the community
by the infliction of personal injury on the transgressor.
Since Hobbes' conception is now completely reversed, the
contents of the moral law being made to refer directly to the
good of the whole, and only indirectly to the good of the
individual, through our knowledge that our own welfare
depends on that of society, it is clear that Hobbes* theory
of an original state of war can no longer be maintained,
assuming as it does that ^oism is the sole spring of action«
War is a later product ; the natural and original state of man
is peace, and mankind is urged by the most powerful motives
to preserve peace and avert war, since the former is associated
with the pleasurable feelings of benevolence, and the latter
with the painful feelings of envy and hatred. Further, only
on the assumption that benevolence is a primary instinct can
we r^^rd natural law as a part of the divine commands.
For since it was God's will to give us the knowledge that
our duty lies in labour for the common good, He must have
endowed us in this life with benevolence and trust, not enmity,
as innate attributes. Greater stress is thus laid on emotion, in
opposition to Hobbes and the Intellectualists, although it is
not yet placed in conscious antithesis to reflection. Rational
insight, however, retains its importance in the choice of special
means and in the performance of particular actions. Thus
the soul is neither tabula rasa, acquiring ideas only through
the medium of sense-perception and reflection ; nor does it
bear the ideas as preformed copies in itself: the moral law,
like reason, is latent within the mind, and is first brought into
clear consciousness through the intercourse of the individual
with his fellow-men.

These views, which represent in many points the %na

62 Modem Ethics [319-20

media between the extreme theories of Cumberiand's pre-
decessors, may also be said to indicate the divergent
tendencies which developed in later English ethics. Cum-
berland, in his conception of natural law as the voice of
God, reaching consciousness by way of the natural develop-
ment of reason and teaching man what is harmful or useful
to him, is the precursor of the later theological utilitarianistn.
Further, by o^i^^va^benevolenu to natural egoism, he pre-
pares the way for that socicd ethics in which Locke is
his immediate successor, and here combines Locke's stand-
point of reflection with the later ethics of feeling. Finally,
by identifying the moral end with the welfare of the whole,
he returns to Bacon's starting-point, and represents a
tendency permanently influential in English ethics. But
since, in spite of the distinction he draws between the
good of the whole and that of the individual, he recognises
an internal reciprocity between the two, and gives no
sufficient explanation of the nature of the former; the
question is still open as to whether the welfare of the
whole has an independent existence in the Baconian sense,
or whether it does not ultimately consist, as Hobbes
maintained, in the welfare of individuals.

The most important influence in the decision of this
question was that of John Locke^ whose labours in the
field of ethics, as elsewhere, were less distinguished by the
novelty of his ideas than by the circumspection of his judg-
ment, and his careful avoidance of such extreme views as
might seem paradoxical to healthy human reason. The
latter failing having been the especial weakness of that far
bolder and more original thinker, Hobbes, Locke is especially
anxious to steer clear of Hobbes' radicalism ; while at the
same time he opposes the doctrine of the Cartesian Intel-
lectualists that moral principles are innate truths, and like
Hobbes r^^ds them as truths acquired by reasoa^ But

^ Essay C^mcemmg Human Undirstamdimg^ book L, cfaafk iü.

320-I] The Development of Empirical Ethics 63

while Hobbes had rather asserted than actually proved this
position — had indeed in his assumption, based on logical
evidence, of the universal validity of moral norms, made a
supposition which was closely akin to the views of Intel-
lectualism itself— Locke undertook to disprove completely
the innateness of moral ideas by the opposite course of
pointing out individual differences and the uncertainty which
always attaches to these ideas. Like Hobbes, however,
Locke r^ards self-lave as the ultimate motive of all moral
actions, and analyses it more minutely as regards its origin
and effects.^ In deriving the moral instincts from the
capacity to feel pleasure and pain, he seeks, like Cumber-
land before him, to show that they spring from the obser-
vation of social relations and of the useful and harmful
consequences which result from action in these relations.
Hence the assumption of primary benevolence seems to him
superfluous: all the effects which have been ascribed to it
may be explained, he thinks, by our subjective sensibility
to pleasure and pain, and the powers of reflection connected
therewith. On the other hand, he is careful not to assume
with Hobbes an original state of war; he is content with
showing that from the outset the individual's endeavour to
secure happiness and avoid pain, aided by reflection, must
have brought about effects directed towards the general
welfare. This empirically obtained knowledge concerning
what is beneficial and harmful constitutes for Locke the
hix naturalis which Bacon and Hobbes had regarded as the
universal guide of moral action. Locke, however, neither
separates this natural law from religious law, like Bacon,
nor co-ordinates the two like Hobbes ; his thought is rather
that just as we know God from His works, so we become
conscious of the divine commands through moral ex-
perience; and in this wholly altered sense he maintains

> op, cit.^ book iL, chaps, xx., xxi.

64 Modem Ethics [321-2

with the Intellectualists that the divine commands reach
us through the hght of nature. We receive them, besides,
more directly and certainly through revelation, which thus
differs from the natural law arising from experience, not in
Its content, but only in the manner of its communication
to men.^ This conception of the relation between revelation
and natural development marks the first appearance of a
thought which was fundamental for the rationalistic theology
of the Enlightenment, — a thought, moreover, which Lessing
carried out in his Ideas on the Education of the Human Race.
From natural law, of which religious law is thus only a
special form, Locke distinguishes, further, the civil law^ to
which he adds as a restraining factor the law of public
opinion. This latter corrects the civil law, partly preventing
misuse of it, partly rendering its further development
possible.' Hobbes' rigid conception of political law is
thus avoided. Supremacy in this triumvirate of moral laws,
however, belongs neither to political law, as with Hobbes»
nor to religious law, as with the Intellectualists, but to
natural law^ which has an empirical origin in our sensa-
tions of pleasure and pain and in the power of reflection.
This law takes precedence of the religious law communi-
cated by revelation, for while the two are alike in content,
natural law is the broader, and is accessible to all men. It
takes precedence of civil law and the law of public opinion»
for these spring from the same lux naturalis^ and are thus
only practical proofs and applications of natural law. They
constitute, however — and here Locke remains true to the
formal standpoint of Hobbes — the tests which in practical
life are the first to decide between the moral and the
immoral'

> Of. €ii., book hr., cfaafML z.» zvlii., six. ; ^Mi mM tmtt ^ CkrisHmity,
Works, I7S"» vol iL, p. S^?-
« Of. tit., book ii, chmp. zzrifi.» | 7 ff-
* Of. at., book iL, drnpt. zx« | 3, and zzrilL i $.

322-3] The Development of Empirical Ethics 65

Thus in his conception of the moral motive as of the moral
end, Locke returns in essentials to the views of Hobbes.
For him the moral motive is self-love ; the end of morality is
the welfare of the whole, which is made up of the welfare of
all individuals. He avoids, however, the metaphysical hypo-
thesis of a pre-social state of mankind, and prefers to make
the tacit assumption that the same psychological motives have
always governed the human race, and hence have always
produced the same results. Rather more stress is laid upon
the emotional aspect of these motives than has been the case
hitherto, pleasure and pain being mentioned as the only
springs of our action. The intellect, however, still plays the
leading role. Locke's only reason for objecting to primary
benevolence is that in his opinion reflection does all that
benevolence could do. Pleasure and pain are thus not, as
with the ancient Hedonists, properly motives of human action;
they are its necessary conditions ; but the decision as to the
content of action always proceeds from reflection. In this
connection Locke even draws a comparison between the
application of moral rules to particular cases and the appli-
cation of mathematical axioms. He may have had practical
morality chiefly in mind here, but such statements clearly
bear the closest relation to his opinion that all judgments on
vwral values are the results of rational insight and intellectual
deliberation.

This opinion connects Locke with a tendency which may
properly be called that of Ma^ younger IntelUctualists. They
are distinguished from the older school by their greater
inclination towards Empiricism; and from Locke by his
pecuhariy subjective view of morality and consequent wholly
formal proof of its universal validity. Their attempt, on the
other hand. IS rather to show the objective reality of the mo«!
law, from which .ts obligatory force necessarily follows. The
pnncpal upholders of this objective Intellectualism are

"•

66 Modem Ethics [323-4

William Wollaston and Samuel Clarke,^ According to their
views moral norms possess an objective reality, which, as
Clarke assumes, is equal to that of mathematical and physical
laws ; so that a transgression of law in the moral realm is like
a change in the properties of bodies which breaks the laws of
nature in the physical world. As truth consists in the agree-
ment of our ideas with the nature of things, so good consists
in the agreement of our acts with things. These thinkers
r^ard morality as so completely independent of any arbi-
trary and subjective control, that they hold it to be impossible
even for God, having made things what they are, to make a
voluntary alteration in them. The nature of each thing has
been unalterably fixed by Him; to act according to this
nature is, in WoUaston's opinion, to act morally and in
obedience to God. Just as God has given to nature unvary-
ing laws which He never breaks, so, according to Clarke, He
has given to all things a certain fitness to each other, in which
their moral nature consists.

Here we have Intellectualism pushed to such an extreme
that the specific contents of morality as such is almost wholly
obscured Wollaston ranks moral wrong with intellectual
error ; Clarke, influenced by the natural philosophy of Newton,
r^^ds it in the light of a violation of the laws of nature.
In spite of this defect, however, their attempt to prove the
objectivity of morals, as against Locke's subjectivism, is not
without importance, and even in later times similar attempts
on the part of English moralists have not been wanting.

> Wollaston, Tk£ RtUghn of Naimrt DtUmeüied, 6th ed. London, 1738.
The most imporunt phages are quoted in Eedmann's History of Modtm
Pkiiosophy^ ToL iL, put L, { 281, 3. Clarks, A Dttnomstration of tks Bamg and
Attribmta of God, otc.

324-5] '^^ Development of Empirical Ethics 67

Besides the revolt of the later Intellectualists against the
subjective and formal character of Locke's defence of the
universal validity of morals, opposition was called forth by
another point in his theory, a point where the Intellectualists
agreed with him. This was his complete reduction of moral
ideas to intellectual truths. Locke had, indeed, recognised
pleasure and pain as individual motives, but had not shown
the relation between this emotional element and moral action.
It is Shaftesbury who corrects the extreme Intellectualism of
all previous ethical speculations. Surpassing all his prede-
cessors in the acuteness of his aesthetic sense, he is the first
to prove the primary character of moral ^^ä«^, and the im-
possibility of deriving it from any consideration of the useful
or harmful consequences of an action. In his opinion the
primary and immediate character of moral feeling proves that
morality is based on emotions and propensities whose source
is in man^s natural organisation, and which can become objects
of deliberation only secondarily^ in which case they give rise to
moral judgments. There are according to Shaftesbury three
classes of these primary affections: (i) the socicd affections,
directed towards the welfare of society: these, by way of
emphasising their intimate connection with human nature,
he calls by the inexact term of ' natural affections ' ; (2) the
egoistic affections, which aim only at personal welfare ; and
(3) such affections as are useful neither to oneself nor to the
public, and which he calls ' unnatural affections.' Under this
head are classed hatred, wrath and the passions generally.
Morality, then, consists in a right relation between the social
and the egoistic affections and in the absence of those which are
useful neither to oneself nor to others}

> Ah Inquiry Cwceming Vtrtue and M$rit. Cf. also GiZYCKI, Du PhilO'
sopkii Skafteshtrys, Leipdg and Hdddberg, 1876, pp. 73 ff.

68 Modem Ethics [32s

Here Shaftesbury returns to the basal thought of the
Aristotelian ethics: he regards the moral as the moderate,
the harmonious. But his method of reaching moderation
differs from Aristotle's: he believes virtue to consist not,
generally speaking, in a just mean between opposite qualities,
but in a just mean between the selfish propensities and those
directed towards the public good. Ascribing as he does
equal primariness to the social and to the selfish pro-
pensities, he stands with Cumberland, in decided opposition
to Hobbes, and indeed to Locke. Against the former, more
especially, he maintains an optimistic view of human nature.
Man is, originally, not fierce and malignantly disposed
towards his fellows, but peaceable and benevolent; though
Shaftesbury grants that this fundamental kindliness is not
immediately apparent, but requires and allows of develop-
ment and gradual perfecting.^ It is the task of moral
education to help us to reach a clearer understanding of our
own being. In this sense morality, though it is rooted in
human nature, may yet be r^^arded as an art ; a new proof
of that likeness between the moral and the beautiful, already
apparent in the fact that both are governed by the ideas of
measure and harmony. Another point of similarity between
them is that the moral, like the beautiful, produces satis-
faction immediately and through itself alone. Happiness
is thus not only a result but a part of morality. Even
Locke had not been able to dispense with rewards and
punishments annexed to the moral law. Shaftesbury is
most decidedly opposed to this view: morality is its
own reward, he thinks; it involves the highest internal
satisfaction, and hence needs to be measured by no ex-
ternal standard : it is itself a measure of the worth of all
things.

At the same time, the relation of morality to religion is

1 TkiMcralists: a Pkiloiopkical Rhapsody^ ptrt iL, { 4, pp. 310-321.

325-6] The Development of Empirical Ethics 69

entirely altered. The claims of the latter are based wholly
on its agreement with natural morality. If we believe in
God, we ascribe actual existence to the predicates 'good'
and 'just'; hence we cannot possibly turn about and derive
these predicates from the divine will. While Shaftesbury
thus earnestly endeavours to free ethics from the restraints
of theologfy, he is far from underrating the ethical value of
religion. He takes the Baconian standpoint: true religion,
/.^., belief in a deity who is the prototype of moral perfection,
promotes morality, for it urges us to imitate this prototype.
On the other hand superstition and religious fanaticism are
worse enemies than atheism : the latter's attitude is at least
neutral ; but the former destroy the natural feeling for right
and wrong and produce immoral tendencies.*

It is here that Shaftesbury's opposition to Locke and the
Intellectualists is most apparent The latter, indeed, had
taught the inherent identity of morality and true religion.
But they regarded religious commands as co-ordinate with
natural morality, and Locke had even allowed that the latter
receives its strongest reinforcement through the former.
Shaftesbury completed the separation by reversing the
relation of dependence; the moral law is not to base its
claim to truth on the strength of its religious origin, but the
claims of religion are allowable by virtue of their ethical
content Still more important is the position he advances
with r^ard to the psychological motives of morality. He
abandons entirely the attempt of his predecessors to reduce
everything to reflection and a balancing of advantages. The
judgment concerning good and bad follows rather than pre-
cedes the ideas of good and bad. Since the natural moral
law is thus operative in us prior to all reflection, its content
must consist in an emotion or a relation between emotions ;
and since all moral action is concerned either with ourselves

> On Virtue^ book L, part iii.

70 Modem Ethüs [326-7

or our fellow-men, it at once becomes clear that the relation
in question is no other than that of harmony between the
egoistic and the social affections. The psychological in-
dependence of morality and reflection being thus established,
the end of morality can no longer consist in the prospect of
rewards and penalties either in this life or the next : utility
can at most be only a by-product of moral action, not its
ultimate and chief end. This end consists rather in the
inner blessedness which is inseparable from a moral life.

Shaftesbury thus maintains the auianofny of morals in all
respects. Morality is autonomous (i) as regards religion^ to
which it gives laws, instead of receiving them from it ; (2) as
r^;ards its motives^ since its source is not in reflection on
external consequences or the contemplation of objective
relations, but in the human organisation and its implanted
affections ; (3) as r^ards its ends^ since these consist not in
the external utility of actions or in the reward allotted to
them, but in the inner feeling of blessedness which accom-
panies moral experience.

Despite the important advance which this theory shows
over its predecessors, in its exclusion of non-moral motives
and the emphasis which it lays on feeling and emotion as
distinct from reflection, it was not wholly satisfactory to
contemporary thought In particular, it became apparent
that the theory took insufficient account of the fact of
moral obligation. The more it insisted on the natural-
ness of morality as a product of human nature, the more
did the concept of duty elude its grasp. In the idea of
the beautiful^ which was brought into the closest possible
relation with the moral, the thought of duty has no place.
And so, while this theory may serve to show how moral
emotions can give satisfaction^ it can never explain the
profound dissatisfaction, wholly different from aesthetic dis-
like, which accompanies the consciousness of guilt The

327-8] The Development of Empirical Ethics 71

philosopher's optimism took account, it is true, of the subjec-
tive effects of right conduct ; but it neglected those of sin. In
spite of their faulty psychology, Locke and the Intellectualists
were in closer accord with the demands of practical ethics,
for they recognised a law which was either subjectively
or objectively obligatory, and whose transgression involved
penalties, internal and external. Hence one can readily
understand why Shaftesbury's ethics failed to find a
response proportioned to its importance in his own period
or in that immediately following ; while the Intellectualism
against which he marshalled so many weighty arguments
nevertheless maintained its sway.

The most potent factor in this result was theology, and
we find in consequence that the next tendency to develope
in intellectual ethics is that of theological utilitarianism.
This theory, which has been more or less popular in
England from Locke's time to our own, and which found
its best statement towards the end of the eighteenth
century in Paley's Moral Philosophy, considers morality from
the standpoint of moderate ^oistic utilitarianism.^ True, it
r^[ards the external character of the moral act as deter-
mined by Its being directed rather towards the welfare of
one's fellow-men than towards one's own interest in the
present life. The interned motives of the moral act, how-
ever, are on the one hand the divine will, which has
prescribed it, and on the other hand desire for the
everlasting happiness which is to reward those who obey
God's will The moral law thus becomes a purely external
command, which is obligatory less by reason of its own
content than because of the manner in which it is given
and enforced by God. The fulfilment of duty is primarily

1 WiLUAM Palby, PrituipUs pf Mürai and PMictJ PkÜMpky. LoodoOt
1785. Pale/s book also contains many acute obsenrattoos on pcicticd mocality»
whidi does not come within the sphere of our coosideiatioo.

72 Modem Ethics [328-9

an act of prudence, for every wise man must prefer per-
manent to transitory goods. That the moral law by its own
power or through the moral feelings can produce right action,
these philosophers for the most part deny. They do not,
indeed, like Augustine and his successors in Christian ethics,
regard man as naturally bad, but he is naturally selfish, and
can be led to a moral life only by such a system of future
rewards and punishments as the Gospel depicts.

It is interesting to note that this theological utilitarianism
IS governed by the same conception of the motives of
human action which was being defended at that time by
the champion of ethical materialism, Mandeville, in his
renowned Fable of the Bees?- Mandeville also assumes that
egoism is the only real spring of human actions. He does
not think, however, that the divine command or the prospect
of future reward gives rise to altruistic actions : such actions
are simply a hypocritical pretence ; the agent in every case
hoping to be more than compensated for his sacrifice by the
honour which it will bring him or by material goods. Sub-
tract heaven from theological utilitarianism, and it would not
differ very much from the ethics of the Fable of the Bees.

A more thorough psychological investigation of the moral
motive was undertaken by one of the lay adherents of
intellectualistic ethics, David Hartley.'^ He has recourse here,
as usual, to the principle of association^ whose psychological
importance and applications it is his merit to have recognised.
Like Locke and the other utilitarians, he starts with the
assumption that self-love is the primary motive of human
action ; but he then tries to show how this motive may be
gradually eliminated; the subjective feelings of pleasure
becoming, through association, closely connected with the

> Tk4 FahU $ftk€ Bm^ #r PrivßU Vi€$s PMk Bem^: fint pnbliihed in
London, 1714, mnd freqnentlj reprinted with m long commcntarjr bjr the anther.
For duuracteristic eitiacu lee Erdicann, op. cit,, iL { 384, 2.

' Obsirvaiiom cm AUm, part iL» chap. iv.

329-30] 3^ Development of Empirical Ethics 73

objects to which they relate, so that these objects finally
arouse pleasure even apart from any selfish interests.
Further, with gradual realisation of the fact that the less
the self is involved the less danger there is of disturbing
pleasurable feelings by any accompanying disadvantages,
the egoistic motives will give place to altruism. Finally,
the true essence of morality, Hartley thinks, consists in
self-surrender to God and one's fellow-men. Since he
requires this self-surrender to be wholly altruistic. Hartley
remains free from the ^oism of ordinary utilitarianism,
while at the same time, in his recognition of the import-
ance of the feelings, he approaches the standpoint of
emotional ethics,

{d) David Hume and the Scotch Ethics of Feeling,

Shaftesbury had already referred the origin of morality to
definite emotions, but his treatment of the subject leaves much
to be desired. His proof that morality is a balance between
the selfish and social aflections is hardly adequate, and his too
thorough-going analogy between the ethical and the xsthetic
is especially dubious.

The first adherent of the Scottish feeling-ethics, Francis
Hutcheson^ sought to moderate and to correct the views of his
predecessor on this point^ For him, morality cannot consist
in a mere harmony of ^oistic and social impulses ; such a
view is contradicted by the unconditional preference which
our judgment always gives to sympathy above all selfish in-
clinations. Our approval is won, not by a harmony among
diflferent aflfections, but by the predominance cA purely dis-
interested lave over all other impulses. Piety and kindness
are thus the only virtues; individual perfection has worth
only when it resolves itself into these virtues towards God
and men. The victory of the altruistic impulses can occur

^ Pkiiosopkia morolis^ lib. L, cap. L, II9-13 ; cap. il, ||5-I2; cap. ▼.

74 Modem Ethics [330-1

only with the aid of a peculiar emotion of approbation^ which
associates itself with every benevolent instinct. This emotion
springs neither from reflection upon the usefulness of an
action, nor from the divine command, nor from a recognition
of the truth of certain principles ; it is, rather, an innate sense
or instinct of a specific kind, differing only in the various
degrees of its development Reason has not, as the intel-
lectual ethics supposes, any primary significance for morals ;
its influence is secondary, in that it teaches us how to dis-
criminate between what is ethically valuable and what is
worthless, and helps us to reach a knowledge of the moral
world-order and the power and goodness of the God who
preserves that order. The same thought determines the
relation of religion to the moral life. The chief value of the
former Hutcheson considers as lying in the infinite moral
attributes which we ascribe to God. He thus allows to
religion a far greater moral utility than his predecessors did.
Even the external cult he regards as based on the impulse to
seek a common worship, and so grounded in the social nature
of man, from which all benevolent inclinations arise.*

In Hutcheson, thus ascribing a wholly subordinate place to
reason in the moral realm, the ethics of feeling culminates.
At the same time, it betrays a tendency to one-sidedness
which demands correction. This tendency displays itself in
two ways : first, in the fact that moral emotion is reduced to
benevolence alone, and the moral value of personal virtue is
r^arded only from this standpoint ; second, in that it brings
under the head of emotion not merely the moral impulses»
but approbation and disapprobation, which always imply a
certain use of comparison and judgment In both these
points Hutcheson's theory was supplemented and developed
by Hume.

Like Shaftesbury, David Hume regards morality as a har-

> Op. cii., capi It.

331-2] The Development of Empiincal Ethics 75

montous union of attributes, among which we must recognise,
besides the social attributes, those of an individual character,
which serve to the advantage of their possessor, and others
which are useful both to the agent and to his fellow-men.*
Hume therefore requires a complete development of all these
sides of human nature. Since they all depend on natural
dispositions, he combats the moralists who see in the freedom
of certain actions a mark of their moral character. An action
to him appears none the less worthy when it follows by an in-
herent necessity from the natural disposition of the character.*
Although he would seem here to make the ethical and the
natural coincide, he yet thinks it necessary to establish one
essential difference between the moral feelings and other
natural feelings. This difference lies in the fact that our
moral emotions do not, like the sensuous, spring from the
satisfaction of the moment, but bear a purely objective and
disinterested character, since we feel moral pleasure at actions
which do not bring the least advantage to us — nay, perhaps
do us harm — and admire the moral greatness of persons who
lived in a time long past Hume designates this universal
appreciation of moral attributes and actions as sympathy. In
his earlier work, On Human Nature^ he gives an explanation
of its origin, which recalls Hartley's Theory of Association.
Originally, he thinks, our moral feelings like other impressions
must have been more strongly aroused by what was close at
hand than by what was distant But through experience we
learn to free our feelings, and the judgments based upon
them, from this influence ; and then, by reason of the effect
which great distance produces on the imagination, our ad-
miration tends to increase with the distance in time of the
persons or actions we judge.* This feeling of sympathy,
however, by virtue of which we respond to actions that

^ Inqtdty €9fUimim£' tki FntuipUs •/ Morab^ sect iz. ' Ihid,, App. !▼.

* Dnaiiu m Human Naiun^ book iL, p«rt iii, ||7, 8.

76 Modem Ethics [332-3

do not touch us directly at all, has, according to Hume, an
egoistic origin. For we should not sympathise with virtue if
we did not in imagination put ourselves in the place of those
who receive benefit and advantage from the virtuous act
Hume's sympathy is thus very different from that emotion
of benevolence and universal love for humanity on which
Hutcheson had based his ethical theory. The latter is self-
less, the former springs ultimately from self-love ; but they
have a common end, for both further the existence of morally
disinterested judgments and acts.*

Throughout his theory Hume is in accord with the ethics
of feeling. On the one hand, he broadens Hutcheson's one-
sided conception of morality ; on the other hand, he tries to
reach a profounder psychological explanation for moral
approbation and disapprobation. But this explanation has
one weakness. Since it recognises no essential difference
between moral affections and other natural emotions, it
cannot help giving an insufficient account of the origin
of the obligatory force of moral laws, and of the great
difference in importance which obtains in consequence of
these laws betu'een the moral realm and all other departments
of life. The hiatus could not have escaped so keen an
observer as Hume, and it was very likely for this reason
that he borrowed, to complete his theory, certain important
elements from the ethics of reflection ; and stands in con-
sequence, if we regard his theory as a whole, midway betu'een
the feeling-ethics of Shaftesbury and the Scottish school,
and the intellectual and utilitarian ethics of Locke.

For while, according to Hume, all the rest of our moral
judgments are based on sympathy, and hence, indirectly,
on self-love, there is one moral attribute which is wholly
altruistic from the b^inning, and cannot, therefore» be

^ Treaiiu pn Human Naturt^ book iiL, puts L, iiL, 1 1. Inquiry iwmmmimg
iki FrhuipUs «f Morals^ sect. ▼., p«rt iL, and App. II.

333-4] ^^ Development of Empirical Ethics 77

derived from sympathetic feeling: n2xti€^y^ justice} When
we are governed by natural feeling we are partial towards
ourselves and unjust to others. Even sympathy cannot alter
matters, for even in sympathy the Ego is the centre to which
all emotions and judgments ultimately relate. The case is
otherwise with justice. It cannot, therefore, Hume thinks,
be reckoned with the natural virtues; it is no original
attribute of man, and does not spring from spontaneous
feeling, but presupposes reason and deliberation. It is thus
an artificial creation, though this does not imply that its
development is not inevitable and just as necessary as that
of other moral attributes. But while the latter proceed from
the original nature of man, justice may be called a kind of
invention, which can be perfected only by reflection on the
relations of man to his fellows, especially with regjard to the
property which both possess. Thus the existence of justice
presupposes not only various empirical conditions, but also
reflection concerning these conditions. It can arise solely
from the consideration that we get more by restraining our
selfish impulses than by giving them loose rein. Hence the
sense of justice is a corrective for our natural impulses,
though like them it has its ultimate source in self-love.
Such a corrective influence, Hume thinks, must have been
exerted by reflection upon the natural impulses from the
outset, and hence the assumption of a state of nature where
the latter ruled alone, whether as an original war of all
against all or as a golden age, is to be regarded as pure
fiction.* Such fictions possess a certain value as intellectual
experiments ; for instance, the assumption of an egoistic
state of nature makes apparent the impossibility that such
a state could endure even for the shortest interval ; while
the hypothesis of a golden age shows us that if every man

* Trtaiisi^ book ÜL, ptrt iL Jmquiiy^ sect iii

* Inquiry^ sect vL, ptrt L

yS Modem Ethics [334

were animated by benevolence towards all, or if nature had
provided bountifully for all needs, the virtue of justice would
be superfluous.

In this derivation of justice from the tempering influence
of reflection upon the emotions, Hume is apparently guided
by his conception of the origin of positive law. Since, in
common with his age, he held law to be, from its very
foundation, an arbitrary and deliberate creation, it was
natural that he should regard that ethical attribute upon
which the l^fal structure depends, justice, as a kind of
invention. And inasmuch as for his system of morals justice
occupies the ruling place among the virtues, the element of
reflection practically obtains preponderance over the ethics of
feeling, from which he started out

Towards religion^ also, Hume's attitude is more sceptical
than that of Hutcheson. His view, so far as it appears in
the Dialogues concerning Natural Religion^ seems to be in
essentials the Baconian: a superstitious religion is worse
than none. He goes even further: a pure religion always
and necessarily contains a pure system of morals, but the
latter is no better for forming part of a religious system.*
The result is that religion in and for itself is valueless for
morality. It may involve dangers, but no advantages that
could not be obtained in other ways.

On these points Hume is as extreme as any of the English
freethinkers of the eighteenth century; but he is distinguished
among them by the deeper and broader foundation on which
he seeks to base his ethics. Nevertheless, it is his uncom-
promising assumption of the standpoint of reflection against
religion that occasions the inconsistencies of his system.
His attempt to derive the facts of the moral life from a
harmonious co-operation of various moral aflections, is
thwarted by the improbability that so disinterested an

* Dialogues C^naming Nohtrmi JieHgün, part xii

334-5] '^^ Development of Empirical Ethics 79

emotion as justice could spring from the soil of man's
selfish instincts. To get out of the difficulty he supplements
his emotional theory by introducing rational reflection, which
proceeds from considerations essentially egoistic. For Hume
not only narrows the conception of justice by restricting it
to property relations, but interprets property in a purely
^oistic sense. Nothing but private property has a right to
the name; and in proof Hume adduces the supposition that a
stream flowing through a certain state does not belong to the
state, but that strictly speaking every citizen is entitled to a
share. No man can see beyond the horizon of his age. It
is just such details as this that show to what extent Hume's
ethical vision was limited by the individualistic tendency
of thought in the eighteenth century, a tendency which
influences more or less all the ethical systems of the time.
Aside from this, however, the unmistakable inconsistency in
Hume's moral philosophy required correction. And as a
matter of fact Hume's successor, Adam Smith, sought to
avoid this lack of harmony by returning to the views of
Hutcheson, which he extended, however, by connecting them
with the investigations of Hume.

Adam Smith is far better known in the history of thought
by his work on economics, The Wealth of Nations, than by
his Theory of the Moral Sentiments. One would hardly
suspect from the former work the standpoint which the
writer assumes in the latter. As a political economist.
Smith makes the chief motive of human action to consist
in prudent calculation, guided by egoistic interests ; as a
moral philosopher, he bases his whole theory on the feelings,
and among the feelings he makes altruism supreme. He
is, however, impartial enough to allow — in the review of
various ethical systems with which he concludes his work —
a certain degree of truth to every theory, even to that which

8o Modem Ethics [336

derives morality from reflection and that which deduces it
from self-love.^ The ethics of reflection especially is right,
he argues, in so far as ^vtry judgment on moral actions is
actually a matter of reflection ; but it involves the error of
taking a judgment after the fact for the cause of the fact
Further, self-love is indeed a factor in moral affairs, but not
the only one; consciousness manifests itself where moral
judgments are in question rather in the form of sjrmpathetic
feeling. This last Smith conceives in a broader and deeper
sense than did his predecessor. Hume regarded only the
objective side of sympathy.* According to him we feel
sympathy with moral actions, even when they do not affect
ourselves, by putting ourselves in the place of those who
are benefited Thus in spite of its emotional basis the
utilitarian tendency is present in Hume's theory from the
outset Smith completes the conception by adding the
subjective aspect We feel sympathy with moral action
not only because we think ourselves into the place of the
person affected, but because we enter into the spirit of the
agent The satisfaction which the latter feels in his own
deed we feel also, and we obtain in this way a general
standard of morality which is the creation of our immediate
consciousness. This change in the conception of sympathy,
trivial as it may appear at first sight, had a very wide
influence upon the way in which moral facts were r^;arded.
While Hume made the final judgment on the merit of an
act rest on its external effect, which is the only possible
measure of the advantage it secures for others, for Smith
the crucial point is the disposition. For in order that we
shall be moved to sympathy with another's act, we must
be convinced that it springs from a moral disposition. The

> TAsary tf MartJ SemUmaUs, fint pablished in 1759. Vui vL, | 8.
Cf, also Joif. Schubert, Adam SmitVs Moralpkihspphie. Pkiios, Simäün^
TU, p. 552 £

< Of. ai., part U.9 II 2 C

336-7] The Development of Empirical Ethics 8i

moral character of an act is now determined not by its
external consequences, but by the motives which give rise
to it Hence, while the vtaxinis of utility do not lose all
significance, they play a subordinate part Though in them-
selves they have nothing to do with the moral disposition,
they may strengthen its motives ; and when judgment is
passed upon it, they may even serve to heighten the favour-
able impression.

Besides dwelling on the subjective aspect of sympathy,
Smith does not neglect its objective side ; he only seeks to
give it a more accurate psychological definition. Here we
do not put ourselves into the place of the agent, but into
that of the person affected by the action : thus our feeling
must be simply a copy of that produced in the said person's
mind by the act But the deeds of others produce in us
an emotion of gratitude when we feel ourselves benefited
by them, and an impulse of revenge when we feel ourselves
injured. Objective sympathy, then, may be described as a
retributive impulse^ if we extend the term to cover both
gratitude and revenge. This profounder conception of
sympathy marks another advance beyond Hume. The
latter had failed to derive one of the most important
ethical motives, y«j//V^, from the natural moral feelings, and
had ascribed it to reflection. Smith shows that the emotional
root of justice lies in the retributive impulse. Justice is
only this impulse universalised, and consequently is on a
common basis with the so-called natural virtues. Delibera-
tion and insight are allowed full scope in the formation
of objective law, but the latter is not regarded as wholly
the arbitrary creation which Hume, following Locke» had
made it. Smith holds that only on the supposition that
justice too takes its rise in feeling can we explain the
difference in importance which obtains between the moral
and those other departments of human interest which are
u. G

82 Modem Ethics [337-«

so often confused with it, e,g.y the useful, the suitable, the
rational.^ Hume had given no explanation for the distinc-
tion, but had identified morality with the natural as r^ards
its emotional origin, and with the prudent and useful as
r^rards its completion by means of justice. Smith observes
that even the retributive sentiments, if they were limited
like sensuous emotion and other feelings to the individual,
could never have reached their dominant position. Their
distinguishing mark lies in the possibility of their sympathetic
transference to other persons, a transference of which every-
one IS conscious. Every agent knows that his act will pro-
duce retributive sentiments not only in the person affected,
but, through objective sympathy, in everyone else ; and that
these feelings, again, by reason of subjective sympathy, relate
less to the effect of his act than to its motive. The con-
sciousness of this transference of the retributive feelings is
conscience, which thus, like the significance of morality
dependent upon it, has its source in society.^ Unlike Hume,
Smith allows great ethical importance to religion^ for the
reason that it is the chief means of emphasising the universal
requirements of morals and of strengthening the natural
sense of duty. Even the more imperfect heathen religions
do not lack this moral worth, for in spite of their lower
ideas of the gods, they regard them as the executives of
the moral law.*

With Adam Smith the development of the earlier English
ethics closes and at the same time culminates. The
psychological analysis of morals which Hume b^an, Smith
completes with a command of the subject wonderful con-
sidering the state of psychology in his age; while at the
same time he frees it from the heterogeneous elements of the
intellectual ethics, which Hume had failed to master. This

> Op, at., pp. 114 A ^ Op. cit., ptrt iii., pp. 177 AT.

* Op. Hi., duip. UL, ppi 218 £

338-9] The Development of Empirical Ethics 83

psychological tendency constitutes alike his strength and
weakness. Careful as is his analysis of moral motives,
and helpful as his discovery of the subjective feeling of
sympathy is to him in this connection, the introduction
of the latter occasions a defect which was less noticeable
in Hume's theory on account of his attempted derivation of
justice from reflection. To say that we sympathise with the
disposition to virtuous action because we feel satisfaction at
our own virtuous disposition, gives no account of the ultimate
basis of this satisfaction itself. Appeal to an immediate
feeling only pushes the question one step back, for it may
now be asked what the cause of this feeling is. When
Smith says that its cause is love for what is honourable and
noble, the desire for a grand and dignified character, he is
arguing in a circle; for it remains to be shown wherein our
ideas of the honourable, noble, etc, consist, and under what
external and internal conditions they are called forth. Thus
even on the psychological side Smith has not reached the
heart of the matter. Moreover, the psychological side is not
the only side. Despite the fruitfulness of Smith's labours
to explain the difference between moral and other judg-
ments, he did not succeed in hitting upon the chief ground
for this difference, namely, the normative character of morals.
While the method of psychological investigation thus
proved itself, in the theories of its most dbtinguished ad-
herents, Hartley, Hume and Smith, incapable of furnishing
a foundation for ethics, there now appears by way of
supplement another tendency which rests the whole weight
of its theory upon the normative character of ethics, and
in order to explain this character has recourse to a meta-
physical foundation. But before we follow its development,
which is throughout in opposition to the empirical moral
philosophy of England, an oflTshoot of the latter remains
to be considered.

84 Modem Ethics [339-40

{e) The Ethics of French Materialism,

Although the attitude of French philosophy at this time
was determined in essentials by the political and social
conditions of the century before the Revolution, as well as
by national metaphysical traditions, e.g,^ the materialistic
atomism of Gassendi and the natural philosophy of
Descartes, its ethics was closely connected with that of the
English moral philosophers, especially Locke and his
utilitarian successors. The chief representative of the ethics
of the French Enlightenment is Helvetius,^ His views,
little altered, may be found in other adherents of the same
tendency. Among the followers of Locke it is Mandeville
with whom he stands in closest relation. But he is dis-
tinguished from Mandeville by a practical idealism, which
is throughout peculiar both to French materialism and to
its opponents. These philosophers felt themselves to be the
harbingers of a new epoch. Their eloquence was directed
not only against the burden of perverted social institutions,
but also against the yoke of prejudice and superstition under
which, in their own opinion, humanity was languishing.
They sketched the ideal picture of a rule of reason, under
which everyone would be animated only by the noblest
motives towards his fellow-men, and which would substitute
for the existing injustice and inequality, universal equality
and fraternity; for constraint and social misery, universal
liberty and happiness.

But the means which were to bring it to pass are in
curious contrast to this ideal state of things. All self-
sacrifice for others and all social virtues can, it is held,
be directly derived from self-love. Hence the process of
enlightening men as to their own advantage would seem

* De V esprit, Pftris, 1758. De PAcmtru, at us facuUh intelUehulUs et de
toniducaiioH, Oeuvres posth. Londres, 1773.

340-I] ^'^ Development of Empirical Ethics 85

to be the best method of producing the state of universal
happiness. Helvetius is far from denying that man may
reach the point of preferring the general welfare to his
personal interest; indeed, he holds it to be essential to his
ideal state of society that as many persons as possible shall
be capable of disinterested action. But he thinks that such
a disposition must be derived from original egoism by the
complex influences of life, especially by education, legis-
lation and personal experience. It is true that he gave
no psychological explanation of the possibility of this
development ; in this respect his theory is faultier than that
of Mandeville, who mentions vanity and ambition as the
motives of all unselfish action, thus reducing such action
to a mere pretence. Helvetius ascribes too much positive
worth to altruistic actions to be a follower of Mandeville
in this respect His practical idealism clashes with his
theoretical hedonism and egoism.

As at this point, so throughout in the psychological
groundwork of his theory he is far inferior to his English
predecessors. The demand that all men shall be regarded
as equal, which these writers included in their ideal of the
future, was transformed by most of them, including Hel-
vetius, into the fiction of an original state of absolute
equality, — a complete likeness of disposition and original
character. The reverse side of this belief was formed by
the assumption that education, instruction and legislation
exert an all-powerful influence upon humanity. As the in-
clination to refer all social wTongs to the bad state of existing
arrangements became stronger, there was an increased ten-
dency to expect that future salvation would result from
the reform of these arrangements. In Helvetius, as in
Holbach's Systetn of Nature^ we find it definitely assumed
that wise lawgivers would be able so to educate and guide
the natural selfishness of man' that he would devote himself

86 Modern Ethics [341-2

to the salvation of his fellows, and would co-operate to bring
about universal happiness. How these wise legislators were
to set to work, — ^how, indeed, they could be produced under
existing conditions, and on what grounds they were to
subdue their natural egoism in behalf of the community, —
are points left unexplained.

We see, then, that however important the ethics of the
French Enlightenment may be as a part of the history of
thought, it did nothing for the solution of ethical problems ;
and the same thing must be said of the opponents which
it found in contemporary French literature. The views
of Rousseau, for instance, though he combated with forcible
eloquence the egoistic and irreligious attitude of materialistic
ethics, are like those of his adversaries, merely an echo
of the English moral philosophy which preceded them. As
his opponents adopt in an exaggerated and partial form
the intellectual ethics of the English, so Rousseau adopts
the ethics of sentiment, in accordance with which he
r^^ards morality not as arising from selfish calculation, but
as the natural product of feeling yet unspoiled by culture.
Of a psychological analysis of this feeling, which is some-
times identified with conscience, sometimes with reason^
Rousseau says nothing. But the conflict between the cor-
responding English tendencies is here repeated and intensi-
fied ; for while Helvetius and his followers, believing that the
best way to bring about a state of happiness is to inform
men concerning their true interest, require for this purpose
the dissemination of an enlightened philosophy, Rousseau
casts aside all culture and science as vain, and demands
a return to the original and ideal state of nature. How-
ever, materialism too extols the condition of affairs which it
expects to result from the new culture as a kind of ' return
to nature'; and so the two tendencies are more closely
akin than they seem on the surface to be. Both unite, as

342] Metaphysical Ethics 0/ 17 & jS Centuries 87

a matter of fact, the revolutionary spirit with that rigid in-
dividualism which makes Rousseau the eloquent champion
of the social contract of all with all and of an absolute
popular sovereignty deduced from equality of rights.

2. THE METAPHYSICAL ETHICS OF THE 17TH AND i8TH
CENTURIES.

(a) Descartes and Cartesianism.

While English ethics, less influenced by the philosophical
systems which were developing contemporaneously in France,
England and Germany, went its own way, and in its prevail-
ing tendencies was occupied with giving an empirical account
of the general conditions of moral life, the main stream
of continental philosophy took another course. Externally,
the difference appears in the fact that ethics on the
Continent is regarded less as an independent subject, but is
throughout the handmaid of metaphysics. In this respect, as
in others, metaphysics appears as the heir of theology. The
bond between the two is internally strengthened not only
by the fact that theology and metaphysics are occupied
with the same transcendental problems, but also in many
instances for the reason that the metaphysics of that time
was influenced by preceding theological speculation in
general and by certain of its lines of thought in particular.

Thb twofold aspect is especially evident in the thinker
who begins the development of modem metaphysics, — in
Descartes. He is far more indebted to scholastic speculation
than his own writings show. To the elements which he
derived from this source, however, he added the mechanical
view of the worid which was current at the time, and which in
his theory of the emotions he brings over into psychology.
Then, too, his doctrine of the will and its relation to emotion
is important for the further development of ethics. In his

88 Modem Ethics [342-3

conception of the will he is a disciple of nominalism. He
is an indeterminist and intellectualist The divine will, like
the will of man, is free. The requirements of morals arc
divine commands, and it is man's privilege to follow them or
not But clear willing and clear thinking are identical. If,
then, man were a purely spiritual being, any deviation from
clear knowledge, under which the moral law may be classed,
would be impossible. But the human soul is united with the
body. Now Descartes differs from the views of Christian
Platonism, in that he does not regard this union as unnatural,
imposed upon man as an evil or as a punishment for previous
error. On the contrary, he makes it natural and ordained in
God's original plan of the world. But a trace of the old idea
persists in his doctrine that this union with the physical
is responsible for sin. Only it is not matter itself which
is immediately regarded as evil ; what Descartes tries to do
is to explain the origin of diveigence from the good
psychologically ^ by a reference to the interaction of mind and
body. The middle term which helps him out here is found
in the emotums. They are states at once of body and of soul,
based on the interaction of the twa They do not proceed
from the soul, as the older philosophers thought: they are
originally aflections of the body which are propagated to the
soul through the animal spirits. Hence the soul's attitude
towards them is passive, for which reason they are called
peusions {passions de Vätne). Clear knowledge is disturbed by
them, so that we desire that which is not desirable.^

Thus Descartes obtains a twofold interpretation, intellec-
tual and emotional, for the correlated ideas of the moral and
the immoral. On the one band the moral coincides with
clear knowledge ; on the other with the supremacy of will
over the emotions: similarly the immoral is identical with

' Lis poiswm dt t^ätm^ espedally Farts L and iL Cf, alio Diumm pm
Mithod^ iii., hr.

343-4] Metaphysical Ethics of ij & \Z Centuries 89

obscure knowledge and with the slavery of will to the
emotions. The two views are harmonised by the fact that
all disturbance of knowledge comes from the emotions.
Now since the origin of the emotions lies in the natural con-
junction of soul and body, the supremacy of the will cannot
be brought about by a complete disappearance of the
emotions, but only by the predominance of those emotions
which are by their very nature incapable of enslaving the
will. There is OTte such emotion : it is that of purely
intellectual interest; the feeling of wonder. This emotion,
since it directs the will towards knowledge, furthers the
supremacy of will over the other and less noble passions.
While these latter endanger morality by disturbing the
faculties of knowledge and will, the feeling of wonder, in
so far as it succeeds in supplanting the others, is the chief aid
to morality.

The relation which Descartes supposes to exist between
wonder and the other emotions is an early indication of his
attempt to g^ve a more logical formulation to the emotional
side of his theory. In this attempt he was never successful ;
apparently because his indeterminism would not allow him to
r^;ard the will otherwise than as the supreme court of
appeal. Consequently the development of Cartesian ethics
proceeded in two main directions. On the one hand the
Cartesian theory was given a better psychological foundation
by a complete theory of emotion ; while on the other hand
the standpoint of indeterminism was abandoned.

Arnold Geulinx had already made a considerable advance
towards determinism in his occasionalistic theory of the
relation between body and soul.* If ideas are produced in
our mind by God on the occasion of certain processes in our
body, and if the movements of our body are caused by God

* Cnetki Seanton sive Eihica^ Amstelod. 1709. £xtnu:U in Erdmann,
ToL iL, {{ 267, 268.

90 Modem Ethics [344-5

on the occasion of the corresponding ideas in our mind, then
we are, body and soul, nothing but instruments in God's
hand. Unconditional free will belongs only to God, not to
man, who, as soon as he understands his true nature, surren-
ders his will to God's. Even here the will in itself is free,
but its complete abrogjation is required as a duty, and this
suppression takes place under the forms both of knowledge
and of emotion. In the one case it is the result of true in-
sight into our own nature and its relation to the divine being;
in the other case it is a product of the noblest of emotions,
humility^ which Geulinx lauds as the virtue of virtues.

Malebranche goes a step further in the same direction.^
Extending the principle of occasionalism, he refers every
event in nature to the direct operation of the divine will.
Consequently, not only does unconditioned human freedom
vanish, but important limitations are imposed on the divine
will itself. The more we make God's voluntary operation
coincide with the order of nature, the more we necessitate it
According to the theological formula which expressed this
view, God might have left the world uncreated, but having
decided to create it, no other world-order than the present
was possible. But this order is only a manifestation of the
divine being, and hence must be as truly and absolutely good
as the divine essence itself, which is mirrored in the natural
order of things, and especially in the clearest idea which we
possess of this natural order, namely, the idea of space.

Even the existence of evil does not trouble Malebranche.
God included sin in the world-order, because He possessed the
means of compensating for it; and this means, the Incarna-
tion of Christ, exceeded in value the evil on whose account it
was necessary. In this doctrine, as elsewhere, we find the

* Enirüutu sur la mSt^kytiqu* tt smr U reHgicm, Oeuvres pv JULIS
Simon, i. L De la reckercke de la vhrili^ do, t. UL and it. Traiti di mt^rale,
Paris, 1707. Extrtcu are given by BouiLLiBR, Histoire dt la pkilos. CarU-
sienme^ t. iL, pp. 68-75.

345-6] Metaphysical Ethics of \^ & \Z Centuries 91

thought of earlier Christian ethics revived. But the
rationalism of the age stood in the way of a wholly mystical
conception of sin. Besides deriving it from the fall of man,
the Cartesian theory regarded sin as the effect of obscured
knowledge, which is necessarily involved in the finite nature of
man. God has implanted in us an irresistible impulse towards
Himself, the perfect good ; but our faulty knowledge makes us
strive after lesser goods. Sin, therefore, is rather a negative
than a positive evil; a weakness, whose cure lies partly
in clear knowledge, partly in strengfth of will. Malebranche
thus draws a distinction between understanding and will,
which were identical for Descartes. The function of the
understanding is to know God ; that of the will is to love
Him. Since individual things ought to be r^^arded simply
as aids to the knowledge of God, our feeling towards them
and towards our fellow -men should not be strictly love,
but rather benevolence and respect, for like ourselves they
are creatures of God. Cartesian indeterminism is thus
attacked both in its divine and in its human aspect; and
Descartes' attempt to treat morality as the product at once of
knowledge and of the development of the emotions is here
completed, knowledge and emotion being no longer regarded
as opposing forces, but as different aspects of the same
process. Understanding makes possible the knowledge of
God, will is exercised in loving God, but the two are
inseparably united, for we can neither know God without
loving Him, nor love Him without knowing Him.

Thus we find that both in metaphysics and in ethics
Malebranche is almost a pantheist There is just one thing
that restrains him from the final step : he cannot give up the
principles which the Catholic Church imposes on him. He
carries forward that process of rationalisation in Christian
ethics which Descartes bq^an, and which, like the attempt
to restore an older theology, finds its fulfilment in Spinosa.

92 Modern Ethics [346-7

It is Spinoza who is the first to create a wholly metaphysical
ethics, free from all trace of its theological origin. Spinoza
thus completes for continental ethics the separation between
morality and religion which English empiricism, in spite of
many relapses, had effected under the leadership of Bacon.

(b) Spinoza,

Spinozas ethics is throughout based on his metaphysics.
In the first part of his principal work the metaphysical
nature of his problem, with its definition of substance and
the dialectical elaboration of this fundamental concept of his
philosophy, is so much in evidence that the title * Ethics '
strikes the reader as odd It is only towards the end of
the work that we find the title to have been chosen in-
tentionally, in order to indicate that it is the problems of
ethics upon which the author lays most stress. His meta-
physics and epistemology are only preparatory and auxiliary
to the ethical theory which is to crown the edifice of his
system.^ In still another way, unintended by the author,
its title is significant of the tendency of the book. Not only
is a theory of ethics the end and aim of his work, but the
ethical atmosphere which pervades it is the real source of
its metaphysics. Next to the Platonic philosophy there is
perhaps no system which bears such marked traces of having
originated in ethical needs as does Spinoza's. Here, as in
Platonism, the problems of metaphysics are identical with
those of religion. The conception of Deity is the keystone
of both systems: philosophy as Plato and Spinoza under-
stand it, is rationalised religioa For the former it is the
idea of the Good which takes the place of the religious
notion of God : for the latter it is the concept of substance.
But while Plato never quite succeeded in assimilating

> Cf, here the IntroducUoo to the timctmte /V /mielUctus EnunJatione, Elwes'
timns., YoL iL, p. 6u

347-8] Metaphysical Ethics (?/" 1 7 (5f 1 8 Centuries 93

dialectically the mythical elements of the religious conscious-
ness, Spinoza's philosophy is completely rationalised religion.
Not a single touch of the fantastic is left. The only remain-
ing trace of reh'gion is found in Spinoza's identification of
the concept of substance with that of Deity. But this
rationalised religion is of course fundamentally different
from the enlightened deism of Locke and his school. While
the latter deliberately disregarded the mystical depths of
religious thought, and made the essence of religious revela-
tion to consist in an intellectualistic and utilitarian ethics
of the most superficial character, it is just this mystical
content of the concept of God and of religious feeling that
Spinoza undertakes to transform into rational knowledge.

The immediate successors of Descartes had already shown
a tendency to oppose the nominalism and indeterminism
which largely governed his philosophy ; and Spinoza flatly
contradicts all such doctrines : for him the principle of inner
necessity is everywhere supreme. Not only is God Himself,
as an infinite self-existent Being, necessary ; but all that is
in Him, His attributes and modes, that which determines the
course of individual things, fulfils itself under the same
necessity.^ There is no room here for free-will: every
human action, too, is involved with the substantial world-
ground as a necessary modification of its being.* In
consequence of this coherence with the ground of all things,
we can never speak of what ought to be, but only of what is.
Moral and immoral are relative terms, which have a meaning
only so long as we confine them to the consideration of our
emotions and the relation of emotion to knowledge, but
whose distinction wholly vanishes in relation to the totality
of being. God, the Absolute, is neither good nor bad, for all
these finite and relative determinations are in Him reduced
to unity. If, then, morality with its g^dations is relegated

* EtkUa^ Pus I * Etküa^ Pkrs v., Schol. 11-32.

94 Modern Ethics [348-9

wholly to the realm of the finite, of limited knowledge,
then we must give up the nominalistlc idea that it is
derived from a direct command of God If substance itself
is not affected by this relative distinction of good and bad,
then the ground of the difference must be sought in the
limitations of finite being, the modes of substance. Not
natura naturans, in which all antitheses and differences of
finite thought disappear, but natura naturata, the infinite
series of the substantial world - ground's individual mani-
festations, is the sphere of moral as of all other determina-
tions of value.

Here, too, in the realm of particular effects and events,
of natura naturata^ is the sphere of human freedom and
of its opposite, spiritual slavery. For man, like every other
individual thing, is determined within the chain of particular
causes and effects, partly by the attributes of his own nature,
as they originate from his connection with infinite substance,
partly by other and external things. As r^;ards the former,
he is <utive\ as r^^ards the latter, /oxm;^. So long as he
follows the inner determinations of his own being, he is free;
when he is determined by external grounds, he is not free.
Absence of freedom is always caused by obscure, inadequate
knowledge ; for as soon as we get a clear conception of our
own being, we cannot be determined otherwise than by this
clear knowledge. When we form inadequate ideas we are
ruled by passive emotions, by such states of our body and
soul as have their source not in ourselves but in external
objects. Morality thus assumes a twofold aspect for Spinoza:
on the one hand, it is identical with adequate knowledge ; on
the other hand, with active emotion. These two aspects,
however, necessarily coincide. Passive emotion ceases to be
passive as soon as its nature is clearly recognised For the
man who has reached the stage of clear knowledge there is
thus no more passive suffering or pain. He knows that he

349-50] Metaphysical Ethics 0/ 17 äf iS Centuries 95

himself is one with the Infinite Being; that the affections
of his body and soul are only modifications of this Infinite
Being, and that the love of earthly things is but a modifi-
cation of the highest form of love, — love of God. Know-
ledge of God, as the highest form of knowing, is thus
necessarily involved in the highest and most blessed of all
emotions, the intellectual love of God, which, figuratively
speaking, is a part of the infinite love with which God loves
Himself. There is nothing in nature which is contrary to
this love or can overcome it ; for it follows from the proper
nature of the soul, and is, therefore, that active emotion
which is directly connected with the soul's self-knowledge.
Virtuous action is action under the guidance of reason.
Virtue, in this sense, needs no reward ; it is itself its own
reward, because it involves the highest form of self-satisfac-
tion, based on reason, and is identical with the love of God
in which all blessedness consists. Further, virtue is not the
result of the control of sensuous impulses ; it is rather the
only source of the power to control our impulses.^

Since, for Spinoza, self-knowledge and knowledge of
God are thus identical, while virtue and happiness rest on
knowledge of God, the significance of the active and social
virtues is obscured. True, the good which the virtuous man
desires for himself he wishes for other men also. Still, the
individual acts for himself and his own advantage alone, and
succumbs to the passive emotions if he allows himself to be
determined in his action by the welfare of others. To be
virtuous, to follow the guidance of reason, and to strive for
one's own interest, are all synonymous for Spinoza ; but, of
course, he interprets the term 'interest,' not in the sense
of popular utilitarianism as the effort for external advantages,
an effort which springs merely from inadequate knowledge
and favours the passive emotions; but as the maintenance

> Etkiea^ W., Defin. Prop. i. Etkica^ y.. Prop, l, SchoL 36-42.

g6 Modem Ethics [350-1

of one's own being in its connection with Infinite Being,
conceived through adequate knowledge. Hence the virtuous
man is cheerful and self-satisfied, friendly and frank towards
his fellow-men, but of sympathy he knows nothing, for it is
a passive emotion, and as such, bad. The assistance which
sympathy prompts us to render to others, the virtuous man
gfives at the instance of reason.*

Spinoza's decided emphasis upon the individual aspect of
the concept of virtue, as well as his inclination towards the
contemplative life, shown by the importance which he
ascribes to knowledge of self and of God, and to the love
of God therewith involved, prove him a true successor of
the Christian ascetics. His absorption in the knowledge
and love of God bears no slight resemblance to the views
of those Christian moralists who saw in religious contem-
plation the only healing for a wounded soul. Of course,
however, the rationalistic Spinoza does not refer this healing
to a future life, but to the immediate satisfaction arising
from virtue ; though his attitude towards immortality is not
at all one of denial, since he ascribes an eternal existence
to everything which the soul knows under the form of
eternity, and hence to the soul itself, in so far as it has a
clear and adequate idea of itself For every adequate idea
is an inalienable part of the eternal Being.^

While in all these respects his ethics must be termed
deeply religious, even verging towards the mystical aspect of
Christian faith, its religious character was far from apparent
to Spinoza's contemporaries. His identification of the
concept of substance with God, and of God with Nature,
they r^[arded as a blasphemy, thinly veiling atheism ; and
his complete disregard of the dogmas of existing religions
seemed a confirmation of their opinion. Moreover, even
apart from this prejudice, based to a certain extent on a

1 f/iirii, hr., Scbol. ^^-yx * Etkica, y., SchoL 24-56.

35 1 ] Metaphysical Ethics of 17 & li Centuries 97

delusive appearance, Spinoza's ethical tendency was out of
accord with the ruling spirit of the time. His ethics was
at bottom too religious for the age. In its exclusive turning
towards God it n^lected what was called, despite the
absence of any possible claim to resemble Christian ethics,
especially in its earlier forms, 'practical Christianity.' A
Jewish thinker whose own community had cast him off and
who could not make up his mind to enter any other,
Spinoza's strong leaning towards contemplation is the
natural result of his solitary life. Thus, both in character
and in the external circumstances of his life, he forms the
strongest possible contrast to the man whose efforts were
directed towards an ethical theory differing on all the
above points from the supposed atheism of Spinoza.

{c) Leibniz.

Leibniz^ influenced by every current of the public life and
scientific activity of his time, taking a manifold and active
part in both, made no secret of the fact that his task was
to adapt his system, as far as possible, to all reasonable
demands. In particular, he wished to reconcile philosophy
and theology ; and the summit of his ambition would have
been reached could he have succeeded, as his over-bold
desires encouraged him to hope, in re-uniting in his own
philosophy the warring Christian churches and creeds.
These efforts at compromise must not be overlooked in
estimating his philosophy. They stamp him, with all his
liberality, as an eclectic, and one who shares with all eclectics
the fault of frequently combining contradictory elements.
But Leibniz has one thing in common with Spinoza: his
ethics is wholly based on his metaphysics, and this latter
in turn is ultimately deduced from ethical postulates.

It is well known that the metaphysical opposition between
the two finds expression in their radically different conceptions
of substance. Spinoza conceives it as a pantheist, Leibniz

IL H

98 Modern Ethics [351-2

as an individualist. For the former, substance is the absolute
unity and infinity of all that exists ; for the latter, substance is
the absolutely independent individual existence ; and it is the
infinity of monads in their continuous gradations from the
lowest to the highest perfection which makes up the sum
total of existing things.^ Little as the fact appears in the
philosophical groundwork of the theories, this difference is
undoubtedly due to ethical and religious motives. Spinoza's
religious feeling is wholly one of submission to God ; in this
feeling every thought of the independence of the individual
vanishes. His conception of God is so filled with the idea
of absolute infinity, that he makes no effort to ascribe to
substance predicates, such as personality ^ which are borrowed
from the realm of finite and limited knowledge. As the
opposition of good and bad disappears in God, so the idea of
personality, which, since it deludes us with the notion of an
independence of the individual that has no basis in fact, comes
under the head of inadequate knowledge, is wholly inapplicable
to the divine Being. In the opinion of Leibniz, on the other
hand, with his individualistic doctrine of substance, we not only
may but must ascribe to God the character of personality,
along with all the further predicates which religion allows Him.
He is the Creator and Governor of the world ; He is, especially,
the Creator and Preserver of the moral world-order. From this
general standpoint it was not hard for the philosopher to main-
tain a friendly attitude, even towards particular church dogmas.*
Despite this difference in their fundamental metaphysical
views, the two philosophers agree in certain presupposi-
tions of their ethical systems: presuppositions to which
metaphysical ethics as such is strongly inclined. The first
of these is determinism. For Leibniz, too, all thoughts and

> Lbibniz, Opera pkilot.^ ed. Erdnuum, pp. 376, 705, 714« Dnncan't tr., pp.
J1S-19, 909.

* Op. ph., ed. Erdmano, pp. 411, 463, 532 teq., 708, 716. Duncan's tr., pp. 194
C, »3 £.113-14.

352-3] Metaphysical Ethics of i^ & iZ Centuries 99

acts of the individual being proceed necessarily from its
original nature; and he denies, with especial reference to
the moral law, that God could have produced any other
world-order than the one which actually exists.^ True,
he seeks by a very evident effort to adapt himself to
religious ideas and moderate this determinism, making
a distinction between metaphysical and moral necessity, and
declaring the creation of a different world to have been meta-
physically but not morally possible, since the existing world
must necessarily, by reason of the assumed infinite perfection
of God, be the best But this distinction between meta-
physical and moral necessity is evidently artificial and forced,
for the very spirit of the Leibnizian teleology itself requires
that what is morally necessary should coincide with what
is metaphysically necessary. A second point of agreement
with Spinoza, and one which results from the ultimate
affinity among all rationalistic systems» is found in Leibniz'
InteHectucdism. Leibniz, too, makes moral action and
rational action identical ; immorality is a defect, an error, the
product of confused ideas. This similarity of view is con-
nected with the fact that in Leibniz* epistemology the
opposition between clear and confused representations
corresponds fully to that between adequate and inadequate
knowledge in Spinoza's theory. And as Spinoza supplements
knowledge by emotion, and the highest knowledge by the
most perfect emotion — ^the intellectual love of God — so
Leibniz supplements representation by effort^ and dear
representation by a clearly conscious effort, which involves
happiness and consists in love to God and our fellow-creatures.*
It is of course quite evident, however, from the different
ways in which, as we have just remarked, the two philo-

^ TkkdUk^ Op.pk.^ ed. Erdmann, pp. 513 teq. Nouv. ess.^ Iiy. il, chap. xzL,
ibid. p. 249. Duncan's tr., pp. 335 fi

' N09tv. fss.t Ut. iL, chap, xxl, p. 363. Duncan's tr., p. 337. /V/nr. di ia
nature it di lagrdce^ op, cit.^ p. 717. Duncan's tr., p. 215-6.

lOO Modem Ethics [353-4

sophers conceive the moral emotion of love, that important
difierences in ethical attitude lie hidden beneath their simi-
larity in metaphysical views. With Spinoza, as with his
contemporary theological counterpart, Malebranche, love to
one's fellow- men is an inferior emotion ; his ethics remains
^oistic, ennobled and spiritualised egoism though it is;
the affior intelUctualis Dei^ and the blessedness which the
individual thereby creates for himself, constitute at once the
highest virtue and its supreme reward. Leibniz sets beside
the love of God, as nearly equal in worth, love to one's
fellow-men. Since every individual being is both a mirror
of the universe and an cctype of God, love to one's fellow-
men is always love to God ; and since we can exercise this
love only towards our fellow-men, inasmuch as we are not
in a position to show beneficence towards God, love to one's
fellow-men becomes for Leibniz the chief source of practical
morality.^ His ethics is thus not ^oistic, but aUruistic.
Virtue and blessedness are not merely individual goods,
they are attainable only in harmonious social life. Here,
too, his ethics reflects his metaphysic, which is based
on the idea of harmony in the world. In like manner, it
is precisely this metaphysical system of his, full of the
thought of the individual's independence, which keeps him
from a too partial preference for the altruistic virtues,
love and benevolence towards others. He estimates the
purely personal excellences no less highly; indeed, they
occupy the first rank in so far as they condition the
development of the other virtues. For all virtue rests on
clear knowledge, and this is in the first instance an individual
attribute, involving usefulness to others merely as its result
Thus for Leibniz, virtue and perfection are in general identi-
cal Moral culture is spiritual perfection in eveiy respect

^ Dt viia Statu, i»/. n/., p. 72. ATcmf. «tc, Uy. ii,, chap, xz., p. 246. Danaun't
tr., pp. 330-31. DiJIm. £iJUc., op. €it., p. 670, etc Duncan't tr., p. 127.

354-5] Metaphysical Ethics of \^ & i8 Centuries loi

If the monad theory and pre-established harmony are
incompatible with a conception of virtue which is purely
individual and, in a certain sense, egoistic, they are none the
less inconsistent with another side of the Spinozistic theory,
the view, namely, that the antithesis between moral and im-
moral possesses only a relative significance, that it holds good
only for finite phenomena, and disappears in the infinitude of
substance. The idea of harmony is so intimately connected
with the thought of the moral world-order that it leads almost
necessarily to the placing of morality itself, merely raised, like
all representations, to a higher power, in the original substance,
the supreme monad. Leibniz thus explicitly opposes the
supposition, which he considers irreligious^ to the effect that
the good is not of divine creation. But this position of his
seems to lead to the natural conclusion that evü too is due to
the divine will. Leibniz makes the greatest efforts to avoid
such an assumption. He seeks to explain by his doctrine of
the best world the actual existence of evil in the world.
That the actual world is the best of all possible worlds he
concludes from the infinite goodness and perfection of God
If, notwithstanding, evil exists in it, this is a proof that a
world without evil was impossible; and he tries to make
his explanation more plausible by the double expedient of
showing that the good can only be appreciated by contrast
with the bad, and pointing out that evil is not seldom a means
to the attainment of good, — ^thoughts which had frequently
served the same purpose in scholastic philosophy. He is
arguing more in the spirit of his own philosophical methods
when he r^[ards evil as a defect, and defect as a necessary
stage of all development Even in the moral realm perfection
can only be reached by a gradual evolution from what is
imperfect^ Still more artificial are Leibniz' endeavours to
acquit God of a direct production of evil. Such a supposition

1 Tk^icie, part iL, pp. 539 ff.

I02 Modem Ethics [355-6

is impossible. God has merely allowed evil as necessary;
He is its causa deficiens, not efficiens^ — another artifice from the
scholastic apparatus, and one which only serves to render more
evident the impossibility of making God responsible for
morality without at the same time making him the originator
of sin.* Leibniz' other arguments are all in a like spirit
They are for the most part scholastic in character, and are
efforts at reconciliation under a new form with the doctrines
of the Church ; for instance, his distinction between what is
above reason and what is contrary to reason as an explana-
tion of miracle, and his manifold other attempts to harmonise
particular Christian dogmas with his philosophy.

Far more important is a third point of difference between
Leibniz and Spinoza : one where the former's ethics is as
superior to the bitter's as it is inferior in its efforts to ascribe
to the Absolute moral attributes derived from human experi-
ence. This last point is also closely connected with Leibniz'
metaphysic. While Spinoza's substance-doctrine ignores the
idea of devdoptnent^ it is this very thought that fills the
Monadology. The totality of the universe is formed by a
series of developments which, extending from the lowest to
the highest monads, passes through all grades of clearness of
representations. The individual soul is no less subject to the
law of gradual perfection. Its representations, obscure at the
outset, rise with the help of experience into greater and
greater clearness. At the same time nothing reaches the soul
which was not there from the beginning. For even experience
is a self-development, though a self-development which, by
reason of the law of continuity in all being, is related to
everything which takes place in other monads. From this
standpoint Leibniz opposes Locke's attempted demonstration
that moral truths are obtained by experience.' Of course

1 ThMiek^ part iL, p. S47-

* Nouv. «n., Uy. iL, duipw xzviiL Op. eit.^ p. 285.

356-7] Metaphysical Ethics of i^ & \^ Centuries 103

these truths are not, as Descartes and the English Intellectu-
alists assumed, bom with us in the form of complete
knowledge; rather, we possess them as obscure impulses.
Leibniz here appeals to our natural sentiment for humanity,
the social instinct, the sense of dignity and propriety, which
are indeed strengthened by education and experience, but
which man possesses prior to education. Thus moral know-
ledge, like all other knowledge, consists in the increasing
clearness of these originally obscure ideas. Here Leibniz
introduces a thought to which no previous ethical system had
given expression, although it is clearly indicated in the
natural conditions of the moral life, especially under its
religious aspects ; the thought, namely, that all moral effort is
effort after an idedL This effort can reach its goal only by
d^[rees ; the finite human will can never wholly attain to the
ideal The setting up of such an ideal and the gradual
approximation to it are facts of experience. For Leibniz
they form at the same time a welcome confirmation of the
metaphysical presuppositions of his ethics. Every existence
strives towards perfection; but perfection is virtue. Thus
virtue for him includes all aspects of human existence — and
here his concept of virtue approaches that of ancient ethics —
but the highest virtues are those which proceed from the
activity of reason and consist in the effort towards more
perfect knowledge and in that love to God and our fellow«
men which is based on a knowledge of our own place in the
universe.

This thought of development does not appear at all in
Spinoza. As his conception of substance is that of unmoved
existence with unalterable and infinite attributes, so his ethics»
while it recognises defect, suffering, inadequate knowledge, as
the opposites of power, activity and adequate knowledge,
leaves these contradictions unsolved; he nowhere reaches
the conception of a possible development of imperfection

I04 Modem Ethics [357-«

into perfection. Leibniz' philosophy is the first ethical
system to which we can apply the term Petfectionism. The
notion of a gradual approach to perfection had a greater and
more fruitful influence on succeeding time than any of his
other doctrines. Its immediate development was through
Wolff and his school, together with the related popular
philosophy of the German Enlightenment in the next
century.

(^) Wolff and the German Enlightenment.

The independent importance of Christian Wolff is even
less in ethics than in other branches of philosophy. Here,
however, he may claim the merit of having collected
Leibniz' scattered thoughts, formed them into a systematic
whole, and applied them to the various departments of life.
Although the comprehensive and thorough manner in which
he performed his task prevents his works on ethics and juris-
prudence from being entirely enjoyable reading nowada)rs,^
yet he had a strong influence on his time, and is largely res-
ponsible for the fact that Leibniz' Perfectionism became the
keynote of German moral philosophy in the last century.
Not only is this fact shown by the younger members of his
own school, but even the opponents of the Leibniz- Wolffian
system and the eclectic popular philosophers who had felt the
influence of Locke, follow more closely in the footsteps of
Leibniz as regards his views on ethical questions than in any
other respect

At the same time tu}0 defects are apparent both in Wolff,
and, still more clearly, in his successors, which were less
noticeable in Leibniz, partly because of his more general
treatment of the subject, partly because of his profounder
conception of moral problems. The first consists in the

* TbefwmtMil poinUol'hMthcofyipaybefiwndinUicthorter Gennan worki;
Vtm&nfligt Gtdankm von dir Memckm 7%tm umd Lassen^ 6th ed, 1739;
Vtm. Gi d amAim vm dim gnallsikaftlkkim LtUn der Aftmckm^ 4dl ed., 1736.

358] Metaphysical Ethics of \T äf i^ Ceviurtes 105

restriction of Perfectionism to the individual. In spite
of their zealous support of perfection as the fundamental
moral principle, these moralists ignore the question as to
whether moral perfection is not also an historical fact, a law
of development that applies to the whole of humanity.
Some of them, for example Moses Mendelssohn, were even
inclined to answer this question in the negative. Lessing
is the only thinker whose historical sense transcends the
limitations of his co-workers and contemporaries ; and next
to Lessing stands Herder^ whose views were of course
opposed to the aims of popular intellectual philosophy in
many other respects.

The second defect of this philosophy is, like the first, a
l^^acy from the Leibnizian system, where it passed almost
unnoticed by reason of the breadth and profundity of its
author's thought When this profundity had given place
to the shallow and prosaic common sense of his successors»
the defect in question assumed more prominence. It consists
in that predominance of IntelUctualism which we can trace
even in Leibniz, but which is now transformed, under the
influence of the common-sense spirit, into a superficial
utilitarianism. The perfect is made equivalent to the useful
Already, in Wolfl*, we find this utilitarianism furnishing a
support for the external teleology which governs his concep-
tion of nature. If, as the fundamental thought of this
teleology affirms, the whole order of nature exists only
for the benefit of man, the obvious moral application is that
man should try all things with a view to the use he may
derive from them, and act accordingly. In all these points
the ethics of the German Enlightenment finds an important
confirmation in the moral philosophy of Locke and the
succeeding theological utilitarians whose writings obtained
wide circulation in Germany during the last century.

It was inevitable that this prevailing tendency should bring

io6 Modem Ethics [358-9

about a reaction similar to that of the Scottish philosophy
against Locke and his followers in England. Such a reaction
took place as a matter of fact, and with far greater force
than in England; for Kant^ who combated the utilitarian
eudaemonism of the philosophy of the German Enlighten-
ment, had previously undertaken to destroy all the
metaphysical groundwork which, since Descartes and
Leibniz, rationalism had r^arded as impr^^able. To-
gether with the metaphysics of his predecessors» Kant
demolished their metaphysical ethics, and thus opened new
avenues for the further development of ethics. This
development, which extends down to our own times, may be
considered as subdividing into two tendencies closely
analogous to their two predecessors. Kant himself, starting
from rationalism, originates the ethics of modem speculative
idealism. To this there is opposed an ethics of realism which
in England is immediately connected with the moral
philosophy of preceding thinkers, partly with that of Locke,
partly with that of the Scottish school ; while in Germany and
France it makes various independent experiments, which
have only recently b^^n to show a tendency in the direction
of the related English doctrines.

3. THE ETHICS OF KANT AND OF SPECULATIVE IDEALISM.

(a) Kant.

If, beginning with what is now r^^ded as the most
important of Kant's achievements. The Critique of Pure
Reason, one follows the further development of the critical
philosophy, the inclination is so strong to regard his recon-
struction of epistemology, the limitation of knowledge to
experience, and the consequent destruction of preceding
transcendental metaphysics, as the great point of his system,
that one is tempted to treat his later and ethical works as

359-6o] Ethics of Kant and Speculative Idealism 107

supplementary and relatively subordinate in sig^nificance.
Yet even the earlier critical writings furnish indications
enough that the philosopher himself took a different
view of the comparative importance of the various parts
of his work. True, it was the weakness of the Wolffian
metaphysic, its rational ontology, psychology and theology,
which first impressed Kant; but this only led him to a
clearer conviction of the necessity of seeking another basis
for ethics, which should be no longer open to the doubts that
metaphysical ethics and the philosophy of religion had to
encounter. Thus we find that even his critical masterpiece
shows a deliberate attempt to dear the gfround for a new
foundation of ethics ; and he does not conceal his conviction
that this effort will be successful in proportion as the
supposed science of dogmatic metaphysics can be proved
fallacious, and the necessary limitations of all knowledge
can be shown to lie at the borderline of experience.

Kant himself has testified that the reading of Hume
made a deep impression on him.^ But Hume had, with
inexorable logic, exposed the sophistry of the ontological
argument for the existence of God, and had rejected all
theological foundation for his ethics. Kant could not evade
the acuteness of Hume's reasoning ; but on the other hand
he was quite as firmly convinced that Hume's empirical
derivation from self-love and sympathy could not suffice
to explain the facts of conscience. He therefore matured the
plan of founding an idealistic ethics in the Platonic sense,
though without any of those supports borrowed from a
transcendental knowledge of God and the world, which Plato
and the succeeding Christian ethics, as well as modem
metaphysics, had employed. In proportion as he succeeded
in showing that Plato's ethical position stood in no real

' FroUgomtmato Any Fuhtr* Mtt^fytie. Intfoductioo. Maba% and Bernard'»
trans., p. 6.

io8 Modem Ethics [360-1

need of these supports, the more earnestly did he endeavour
to carry out Hume's work to its completion; and, himself
educated in the school of dogmatic rationalism, to follow its
doctrines through all their ramifications in order to prove the
ultimate futility of its efforts. In the preface to the second
edition of the Critique^ Kant expressly stated that *it was
necessary for him to destroy knowledge in order to make
room for faith.' ^ For the false dogmatism of metaphysics
seemed to him the real source of *all that unbelief which
makes against morality,' and which is itself * exceedingly
dogmatic.'

It was thus Kant's declared purpose from the start to abolish
the metaphysical basis on which ethics had rested hitherto,
and to furnish morality with a new foundation, independent of
metaphysical theories^ and for that reason all the more secure.
His whole critique of previous metaphysics, as well as his
own epistemology, are the expression of this endeavour:
hence the great emphasis which he lays on the limitation of
knowledge to experience, hence the prominence given to the
doctrine that the transcendental ideas as postulates of
practical reason may claim with all the greater assurance the
validity which must be denied them as products of theoretical
reason.' And so, in the destroyer of the whole meta-
physical system which originated with Platonism, we are
confronted with a phenomenon like that displayed by its
founder. Plato's doctrine of ideas had grown out of ethical
postulates and desires, and such elements had made their
influence felt in all the subsequent development of meta-
physics. Kant's critique of all metaphysics also grew out
of ethical needs, but having proved the metaphysical basis of
ethics to be useless he prefers to abandon it In English moral

> Max MuUer^f tiaos., &., pw 58a

* Criiiqtu of Pur$ Rtasmu Appendix to the Transcendtntal Dialtftic^
Müller*! timns., pp. 55 fi^ Criiiqm (f Fmctkal Jitasom, Abbott's tnos. Pre^Me,
^9ö.

361-2] Ethics of Kant and Speculative Idealism 109

philosophy the separation of ethics from theology and
metaphysics had already taken place, and ethics had in con-
sequence been based on the empirical principles of utility and
sympathy. Kant's peculiarity lies in the fact that he takes
the first step with the English moralists, but not the second.
Here he remains true to the presuppositions of Platonic
ethics : the origin of moral ideas is not empirical^ but super-
sensuous.

This position, of course, is tenable only if we r^^ard the
principles of empirical knowledge and the sources of the
moral consciousness as eternally distinct Our empirical
knowledge, the forms of our intuition and conceptual
thought, are throughout restricted to the world of sense.
But we find within ourselves at the same time the idea of
a supersensuous world, whose reality is not abolished by
the fact that the machinery of empirical knowledge cannot
be applied to it On the contrary, Kant is of the opinion
that experience itself not only leaves open the possibility
of a supersensuous existence back of it, but even requires,
in a certain sense, such an assumption, since all the content
of experience is comprehended by us as phenomenon^ and
phenomenon points to a thing in itself^ that is, an existence
independent of the subjective forms of our intuition and
thought, and so for us absolutely transcendent^ We are,
accordingly, both sensuous and supersensuous beings. As
sensuous beings we come under the causality of nature,
and use the forms of intuition and thought on whose
employment all the uniformity of nature rests ; as super-
sensuous beings we are the possessors of these forms of
thought and intuition, and so not subject to them, their
province being limited to phenomena. This use of the
concept of the * Ding an sichl an unconditioned ground of

^ Criiiqm tf Pmrt Rms^^ Anafytie^ diip. iiL, M&Ilcr't tians., pp. 205 C
Cfiiiqui 0/ Practüai Rmtom^ Abbott's timns., p. SIS.

no Modem Ethics [362-3

the phenomenal world, now becomes the foundation for our
faith in a supersensuous world, for the special reason that
there is in us one principle which we cannot relate to our
sensuous existence, but only to that which is supersensuous.
This principle is the moral law. It requires of us moral
action unconditionally, and therefore supposes the full
autonomy of our will. Now as a link in the chain of
phenomena the will is not unconditioned, but subject to
causality. Hence the moral law arises from the super-
sensuous nature of our being. If, then, among these ideas
of the unconditioned, to which theoretical reason leads in
its endeavour to complete the series of conditions, the idea
of freedom is established through the fundamental law of
practical reason, the moral law, then the practical validity
of the other ideas also is secured. For the moral law
requires of us perfect virtue, which as sensuous and rational
beings we are unable to attain; it therefore presupposes a
supersensuous world, in which we may fulfil this postulate
of the moral law, and a supersensuous power which will
aid us in our task. The immortality of the soul and the
existence of God, which can never be theoretically proved,
transform themselves after this fashion into practical
postulates^

With Kant, as with Plato, it is the requirements of
vtorality that lead to the hypothesis of the reality of an
ideal world. But while Plato and succeeding rationalistic
metaphysics sought to find a theoretical proof for this
reality, Kant abandons the task and insures to the super-
sensuous world the character of a practical postulate. Of
course, however, even Kant cannot get on without a
theoretical proof of some sort On the one hand, the fact
that owing to the subjective and a priori character of the
forms of our intuition and concepts, all our knowledge has

1 Criiiqmi cf Practicai Hiosm, Book L, chap, iii«, and Book ii., dmp. iL

363] Ethics of Kant and Speculative Idealism 1 1 1

to do with phenomena^ proves the necessity of assuming a
tiling in itself, an intelligible world ; while, on the other
hand, the universality of the moral law proves the autonovty
of the wilL The premiss of this proof, — ^that the moral
law is an unconditionally obligatory norm, — Kant does
not, indeed, prove, but rather assumes; nor would he
have made this assumption had he not, on the one hand,
supposed a l^^lative power from which the norm proceeds,
and, on the other hand, ascribed to the will freedom to
follow the law. Thus the two conclusions which Kant
deduces from the moral law are really its necessary
presuppositions.

Inasmuch, however, as Kant's own theory reverses the
relation posited by previous metaph)rsicians between the
transcendental ideas and the moral law, the former being
now derived from the latter instead of the latter from the
former, we must abandon the view which r^;ards the sense-
world as a copy of the world of ideas in the Platonic
fashion, or, with Spinoza and most of the modem meta-
phjrsicians, conceives of it as a part of the eternal existence
of the supersensuous being. The sensuous and ideal worlds
must be kept wholly distinct The task of Kant in his
theoretical as in his practical (diilosophy is to make the
chasm between the two worlds as apparent as possible: now
by stating that our intuitions and concepts have no applica-
tion to the thing in itself, now by making the moral law
independent of sensuous and empirical motives of any sort,
especially of our own emotions ; so that with Spinoza and the
Stoics he refuses to reo^^ise benevolence as a moral spring of
action, and considers rig^t conduct which arises from an
inclimUian towards duty as less worthy.^ In fact, there is for
Kant no such thing as an inclination towards duty, for the

* FmmdoMumUi Primipks 9f tkt Mii^^ysie tf Alorah^ sect n^ pp. 29 C
AbboCff timns.

112 Modem Ethics [363-4

sensuous man would act only from egoistic motives. Kant
makes the moral worth of a right action consist in the very
fact that it is done against resistance. He is thus brought to
the point where his scorn for the sensuous world outdoes
Platonism, and his rigidity surpasses Stoicism. This result,
however, was the inevitable consequence of his attempt to
regard the sensuous and moral realms as wholly diverse ; he
was forced, on pain of inconsistency, to reject both the
emotional and intellectual factors in morality, since they both
belong to empirical reality. Thus nothing but the moral
law, wholly unrelated to experience, was left

But just as the moral law, though only a practical postu-
late, cannot entirely dispense with a theoretical foundation,
so Kant obviously cannot altogether n^lect the concept
of happiness^ intimately related as it is to ethics. Absolute
separation from the phenomenal world being required, the
only way in which such a theoretical basis could be obtained
was by transforming the n^[ation of the phenomenal world into
a positive antithesis, the phenomenon being opposed to the
thing in itself, 1.^., that which is not appearance but being ;
and causal conditionality being opposed to freedom. In like
manner, it now becomes necessary to banish happiness from
the world of experience into the supersensuous world, the
latter being now considered morally as well as sensuously the
antithesis of the former. The morality of the sense-world
is imperfect ; it therefore requires a perfect morality which
can become actual only in the supersensuous world There
where sensuous impulses have no disturbing power, it
assumes the character of the summum bonum} There is
no need to indicate further Kant's dangerous proximity at
this point to the theological utilitarianism of his time. It
would be asking too much of man's sensuous nature, swayed

' Critiftu cf Pncticat RtasMt tr. bjr Abbott., part L, book iL, chap, üi,
pp.ao6fi:

364-5] Ethics of Kant atid Speculative Idealism 113

by emotions and hopes, to hold before him a summum bonuin
as reward, and at the same time require him to do right
without any regard to this future good. In any case the
moral antithesis between the two worlds is necessarily
incomplete, since the moral nature of the intelligible world
is constantly penetrating into the world of sense under
the form of the moral law ; so that here the gulf between
the two is bridged. The Ideas are no longer absolutely
transcendent; we now have the sense-world partaking of
the nature of the Ideas, after the Platonic fashion. The
necessity of a return to practical and theoretical Platonism,
if, as Kant intends, we are to make any empirical use of
the ideas, is obvious from the nature of that idea which
leads to the practical postulates of reason, the idea of
Freedom, We may consistently suppose the will to be
empirically subject to natural causality, but in itself free,
only so long as the postulate of freedom is not applied to
empirical acts. But as soon as such an application is
made, there is no other way out of the difficulty, unless
one is satisfied with the mere makeshift of a twofold
aspect, save to assume once more an invasion of the
sense-world by the ideas. All empirical events will then
be subject to natural causality, except where free-will
interrupts it, and where, in consequence, an intelligible act
enters the phenomenal world as the absolute beginning of
a causal scries. This is an interpretation with which
Kant's own mode of expression seems in many places to
agree, though elsewhere, of course, the opposite theory of
a twofold aspect of voluntary acts prevails.

But not only is Kant's conception of the intelligible world
negatively determined by that of the worid of phenomena,
through the opposition in which the two are placed; the
positive influence of the principles of empirical knowledge
upon the transcendental foundations of ethics is necessarily
". I

114 Modem Ethics [365-6

increased, the more devoid of content the concept of
morality becomes by reason of its complete separation from
experience. If the moral law is independent of all empirical
content its character must be merely formal But the term
* formal* cannot be applied to it in the sense of the
Aristotelian ethics, which obtained a formal definition of
virtue by abstraction from the special content of the various
empirical virtues : it must be formal as the forms of intuition
and thought are formal principles of our theoretical know-
ledge. Thus the moral law is for Kant an a priori law valid
prior to and independent of all empirical application. Starting
from this standpoint he obtains his formula: ''So act that
the maxim of thy will might serve at the same time as
a principle of universal l^^lation." Since this law is a
priori^ and hence independent of the special conditions
of its empirical application, it is for Kant a categorical
imperative, an unconditional command of duty, which
cannot be made to depend on any utilitarian or other
considerations.^

We should at the outset avoid an interpretation of this
cat^orical imperative to which many of Kant's own remarks
might lead us. The categorical imperative must not be
r^;arded as a product of inner experience or as difact imme-
diately given to us, for experiences and facts always pre-
suppose a definite content Rather, like the forms of
knowledge, it is a principle which can come to con-
sciousness only in its application to a concrete empirical
content It enters into every inner or outer act which takes
place in the moral realm ; and the proof of its purely formal
nature lies merely in the fact that it cannot be derived from
the given sensuous content of experience. No more than
the spatial form of intuition can, according to Kant, be

^ Critique of Practual Rioson, part L, book I, { } 7 and 8. Mäapkjsk §f
Morals, chap, ii

366-7] Ethics of Kant and Speculative Idealism 115

derived from the sense-material of sensations to which we
give the space-order, can we explain the moral law from
the sensuous motives of our actions, for these motives always
contradict the law. From this conflict between the moral
law and our sensuous inclinations Kant derives conscience^
which he defines as *the power of self-directed moral judg-
ment,' or as * the consciousness of an inner tribunal in man,'
which decides whether our actions are or are not in accord
with the moral law.*

Nowhere is Kant's affinity with Christian ethics more
apparent than in this theory of conscience and in the sharp
antithesis between the moral law and sensuous inclination
upon which the theory is based, and to which he was led
through his effort to contrast the province of theoretical
knowledge, which is confined within the limits of sense, and
that of practical freedom, which proceeds from the intelligible
nature of man. Two considerations make against such a
contrast: first, the fact that the distinction between form
and content, which originates in empirical knowledge, is
transferred to the realm of intelligible freedom ; and secondly,
the further inconsistency that even here it is only thcy&rw
which is sought in the intelligible world, while the contents
must be obtained from the world of sense. This distinction
involves another : that form and contents bear an essen-
tially different relation to each other in this case from that
which they have in the case of knowledge. We are not
obliged to apply the moral law to every empirical contents
of sensuous acts, as we are obliged to apply the space-form
to every content of sense-perceptions; but we can do so,
because the moral law stands for intelligible freedom. But
when we do not follow the moral law, we follow motives
of inclination, such as pleasure, self-interest, etc, which

^ Metaphysik dtr SitUn^ edited by Rosenkranz and Schubert, toL is., p. 246.
Heligion inHerkalb dtr Grtnwtn dtr htosun Vernunft^ op, cit,^ voL x., p. 324.

1 1 6 Modem Ethics [367 8

spring from the sensuous contents of experience. It thus
appears that while the categorical imperative is, on the one
hand, regarded as the a priori form, valid for ever}' contents
of empirical actions, on the other hand it must conflict with
this contents itself. Now, such a war between the moral and
the sensuous is thinkable from the Platonic standpoint,
which regards the t\vo as real opposing forces ; but not from
the Kantian, which makes the moral law a purely formal
principle, finding its empirical contents in the actual fact of
our deeds. The theory thus tends inevitably towards the
supposition that the moral law is not pure form, but possesses
a contents, which is merely veiled by the Kantian formulation.
Unless it expresses in a general way the contents of actions
which are morally good, it cannot enter into real conflict with
other maxims which we call immoral.

This conclusion is confirmed by a closer examination of
the Kantian formula. It is self-evident that a principle which
presupposes not only the active ego, but a multitude of
beings who act in a similar manner, cannot be purely a priori.
The case is quite difl^erent with the forms of intuition and the
cat^ories, where nothing is presupposed but the sensation-
material, which may be regarded as merely affections of
the ^o. The conception of a multitude of moral person-
alities, on the other hand, is surely an experience which
enters consciousness at a relatively late period ; now up to
the time when this experience arises the moral law must have
remained wholly latent But even if we grant this possibility,
the form of the moral law will not apply itself immediately
upon the occurrence of the experience, as the space-form
does to perceived sensations» or the concept of substance
to perceptions persisting in time. For since the moral
law requires us to act in a way that would be suitable for
universal legislation, a question arises which must be
answered before we can apply the law to any empirical

368] Ethics of Kant and Speculative Idealism 1 1 7

content. What kind of action is suited to universal legis-
lation ? Kant says it is self-evident that I cannot will
lying, for instance, to become a universal law, because then
people would pay me in my own coin, and I should not
be believed myself; and that we could not take hate as
a universal principle, because no one could then hope to
obtain the assistance he needed.^ Now if these answers are
the results of reflection^ even in its simplest form, then
obviously the moral law is not a formal principle which can
be applied immediately and a priori to the empirical contents
of actions ; its application presupposes in every special case
empirical deliberation as to the universal practicability of
a given mode of action. In the case of such reflection
preceding the application of the moral law, it would be
inevitable that the welfare and injury of the personal ego
should be taken as a test of the possibility of universal
legislation. Thus all Kant's reasoning reduces itself to
egoistic utilitarianism when we come down to individual
cases. In making the special case into a universal law,
Kant not only n^lects the influence of egoistic motives;
he even maintains that virtuous action is not determined by
regard to personal advantage» but by pure reverence for
the moral law. The details of his proof make it obvious that
as soon as reflection concerning the end of moral action
is made to proceed solely from the standpoint of the
individual, egoistic utilitarianism is the almost inevitable
consequence. Such a conclusion being opposed to Kant's
own ethical needs, he hoped to avoid it by making his moral
law so abstract that the utilitarianism would be concealed by
the idea of 'universal legislation.' In a passionless self-
surrender to this idea, which is as a matter of fact hardly
qualified to awaken emotion, he found a welcome aid in
expressing his dislike of every sort of cudsmonism and

> Met alky sic of Aforais, Abbott's tr., p. 40.

ii8 Modem Ethics [369

his endeavour to make a complete separation between the
moral and the sensuous realms.

Kant thus occupies a peculiar position midway between the
secular and the theological utilitarianism of his time. His
detailed discussions regarding the application of the moral
law belong to the former. His tendency towards the latter is
shown by the opposition which he supposes between the
commands of duty and natural inclination, as well as by the
transcendental eudaemonism, the notion of a supersensuous
summum bonum^ with which he combines it On the other
hand, the formal and a priori character of the categorical
imperative, which finds its basis in his own epistemology, is
purely Kantian. But since this formal character is at the
same time a transcendent character, indicating that its source
lies in our supersensuous nature, we can see a tendency here
towards theological utilitarianism, which also makes the moral
law transcendent, although at the same time giving it a
definite contents and deriving it from the direct command of
God. This tendency is further developed in Kant's philosophy
of religion, where he recognises the possibility of deriving
the moral law from a divine command. But he reverses the
causal relation between the moral law and the idea of God.
We are not to reverence the moral law as unconditionally
binding because it is given by God ; but we are to reverence
it as a divine law on which we base our faith in God Himself,
because we feel it to be unconditionally binding.^ These
relations with the theological utilitarianism of his time are in
accord with his efforts to establish an affinity between his own
ethics and certain dogmas of the Church, such as original sin,
justification by faith, salvation through Christ ; efforts similar
to Leibniz' attempted ethical interpretation of Church doc-
trines, only in a form even more rationalised and moderate.
His theory of law, too, suffers from its restriction within the

^ lieiigwH inrurhaib tUr Crtnun dir blossen Vcmun/t^ p. 69.

369-70] Ethics of Kani and Speculative Idealism 119

arbitrary conceptions which were held by the intellectualistic
ethics of his time, and which were based wholly on egoistic
and utilitarian considerations.*

In spite of these defects, the Kantian ethics exerted a
profound influence. For this it was indebted largely to the
sternness of its notion of duty, — its emphatic rejection of
eudaemonistic and utilitarian motives. In proportion as
such motives obtained a wider influence in the philosophy
of the English and French, and even, ultimately, of the
Grerman Enlightenment, the stronger was the attraction of
Kant's rigid ethical principles for minds which were
repelled by that superficial, every- day morality, with its
arguments based on selfish calculation, or, at best, on
worldly wisdom. Something of the asceticism of Christian
ethics survives in the Kantian conception of duty, which
is at the same time a product of the atmosphere of
seriousness which pervaded Protestant Germany in the reign
of Frederick. 2

(b) Fichte.

German post-Kantian Idealism developed Kant's views
chiefly in the direction of reconciling the antithesis between
the phenomenal and the intelligible which Kant had main-
tained, and which was so important for ethics. The chasm
between the sensuous and the moral worlds, too, was bridged
by the attempt to represent both as stages in an inner and
necessary development Just as, according to Fichte^ subject
and object are moments in the development of one and the
same absolute Ego, so the sensuous and the moral worlds,
the realm of knowledge and that of practical action form
one single chain in the activities of this Ego, — a chain where
every link proceeds necessarily from the one before it

' Metaphysische Anfangsgründe der RethtsUkrt, Works, vol. ix.
■ Cf, my address : Uebcr den Zusammenhang der Philosophie mit der Zeitge-
schichte , eine Centenarheirachtung. Deutsche RunduhaUy 1890.

I20 Modern Ethics [370-1

There is a lingering trace of the Platonic antithesis to
be found in the fact that the theoretical Ego is conscious
of Itself as passive, the practical Ego as active. But the
contrast is obliterated when we are told that the knowing
Ego has itself produced, solely through its own activig^,
the limits which appear to it as an operative object ; while
the existence of morality rests on the fact that a limit is
constantly set to the action of the Ego, beyond which it
seeks to pass to a goal at whose infinite distance it will
attain complete autonomy. Hence, for Fichte all moral
action b a striving towards the Ideal. The ideal is the
destiny of man, which is always to be striven for, though
it can never be fully attained Fichte's moral law is,
"Always fulfil thy destiny."^ Thus besides the recon-
ciliation of the empirical and intelligible, the sensuous
and moral, we have added as a new element the tJiought of
development.

This introduction of the development idea, like the
mediation between the sensuous and intelligible worlds,
marks a distinct advance beyond Kant By the aid of
these conceptions, Fichte succeeds in avoiding the wholly
unmanageable thought of a conflict between the contentless
formal principle and sensuous impulses and inclinations
which are empirically determined. The conflict remains,
but it is transformed into a conflict between opponents
of like nature, by being reduced to the opposition between
moral and sensuous impulses. That is, the eflbrt towards
morality is itself regarded as an impulse^ which can only
be the case if it is essentially conditioned by dependence on
sense» or, as Fichte puts it, by the limitations which the
activity of the Ego imposes upon itself. Fichte's only
reminiscence of Plato and Kant is in r^[arding the moral
impulse as the pure impulse — as the longing which seeks

> SyU€M dtr SiUtmUkrt^ 179a. Works, toL iv., pp. 18 C

371-2] Ethics of Kant and Speculative Idealism 121

to overcome every sensuous barrier — and in ultimately
making the sensuous and the evil coincide.

But the dislike of nature which is so characteristic of the
Platonic philosophy, takes on an essentially new form in this
Idealism. The external world, speculatively regarded as the
self-limited activity of the Ego, possesses practically only the
significance of a medium for its activity, a material for its
operation. Nature is not an end in itself, but * things are
what we make of them.' The moral task which the Ego
must accomplish is thus to make the object serve the purposes
of the subject Reason strives to realise itself by actualising
the moral order in the natural world. This takes place in
a series of developments, whose last stage is in infinity, and
whose every stage possesses a definite ethical significance.
Thus, the Ego first discovers itself to be a self-conscious
individuality ; as such, however, it is only possible if it forms
one among many rational beings. Since each one of these
must ascribe to itself the same free actuality, the relation of
the individual to the whole becomes a relation of law. It
is characteristic of Fichte's attitude, which is still prejudiced
in favour of the individualistic conceptions of the previous
century, that his deduction of the concept of law assumes
nothing but the freedofn of tJte individual, so that here too
the State is regarded as a contrivance, whose sole object is to
preserve individual freedom. Since all men have an equal
right to such freedom, Fichte would even like to establish
regulations that should do away with the inequality of
property which hinders the exercise of this right But the
logical consequences of his fundamental thought compel him,
as early as his first work on the philosophy of right, to
transcend these limitations. Since it is one and the same
reason from which the multitude of individuals take their
origin, reason must find a new unity in the State, and yet
more fully, in humanity as a whole. Fichte's later political

122 Modem Ethics [372-3

schemes, which remind one strongly of the ideal State in the
Platonic Republic^ are conceived in this spirit^

While the restrictions which Fichte saw fit to impose on
the politics of the individual state in his work Der
geschlossene Handelsstaat ^ present a remarkable contrast
to that broadly humanitarian ideal of morality which
gradually overcomes his subjectivism, his original bias be-
trays itself again in his statement that the highest ideal of
the common life of human beings is ' that where all national
ties shall be superfluous/' and in the fact that the State
finds no place in the development of his theory of morals.
It is all the more interesting to note the influence exerted
upon his whole attitude here by an exclusively intellectual
conception of morality and a surrender of the individual will
to the one Pure Reason, which recall Spinoza« In opposition
to natural impulse, whose aim is enjoyment, we have the
result of the moral impulse described as pure self-satisfaction.
For enjoyment is a consequence of the limitation of our
nature, from which the moral impulse strives to be free. All
natural impulses, even sympathy, are therefore as such
immoral, and only to be tolerated because man must always
remain a finite being. But even in his finitude he has
reached the highest stage attainable for him, when he acts
solely for the sake of duty ; when he does not rejoice in his
act, but coldly approves it "In the sphere of action what is
thus approved is called right ; in the sphere of knowledge it
is called tme*** Spinoza, Kant and Intellectualism are here
blended into one. If the question be asked, *What, then, is

' Grundlage dts Naturreckts, 1796. Works, ÜL, p. 203. Siaatskhrtvon 1813,
>▼•» pp. 43' ff-

' Dtr gtscklosseru Handtlsstaai, i8oa Works, UL, p. 399.

^ On th$ Naiun of the Scholar, Pichte's Popnlmr Works. Trans, bjr Wm.
Smith, i., p. 164.

^ System der SittenUkn, p. 167.

373] Ethics of Kant and Speculative Idealism 123

the Right ? ' it is answered : That which you recognise in
your conscience as duty, — a categorical imperative which
avoids formulating a moral law of definite content. This
much only is added, that reason and will, which are identical
in Fichte's system, remind us that the world is the material
for our duty, and that we should strive to give to morality
a visible form. In this striving we exercise creative activity,
and are ourselves a part of that whole which we call the
moral world order, and which for Fichte coincides with God.
In his later discussions of the subject Fichte brings this
Universal Being more and more into prominence, and
relegates the finite will to the background ; until at leng^th
the actual world becomes for him the realisation of a world
beyond the actual, where the limitations of multiplicity and
temporality tend more and more to disappear, and which
manifests itself in the individual as love to humanity. The
principle of the moral law is now contemplation of God, who
is alike its purpose and its realisation.*

Thus in the views of this thinker we find a double change
of tendency, metaphysical and ethical. His Idealism, which
bears at first a strongly subjective stamp, later assumes a
form at once pantheistic and religious; his principle of
morals, originally individualistic and bent on making the
whole serve the purposes of the individual, gradually loses
sight of the individual in the development of universal reason.
These changes took place so gradually and imperceptibly that
Fichte was able to declare with some show of truth that his
philosophy had always been the same. But here, as is so
often the case, a change in the attitude of an individual
philosopher is but the reflection of the general tendency
of thought in his time. For ethics, Fichte marks the
transition from the individualism and subjectivism of the
previous century to a broader view of life, which puts a

^ Du That sac hen des Bewussiseins, 1813. Works, ii., pp. 652 AT.

124 Modem Ethics [374

higher value on the objective manifestations of morality in
law, the State, and history. In this spirit the work begun by
Fichte was completed by HegeL

(^r) HegeL

Hegel, by adopting Fichte's speculative assumption of a
dialectical development of all concepts and of the reality
reflected in concepts, wholly abandoned the division between
the sensuous and moral realms which his predecessor had
inherited from Kant; at any rate he succeeded so far in
avoiding it that he does not even find it available in the
thought of a dialectical development by means of the
opposed moments of nature and spirit Since, however,
nature and spirit and the various stages of the psychic life
are here regarded as moments in a logical development,
where Fichte's concept of limitations, like his antithesis
between the passive and active Ego, is abandoned, the
distinction between the practical and theoretical realms
also disappears. The two blend in the general concept of
the rationed. The moral world like the natural manifests the
activity of the world-soul, only in a higher form. Like the
natural world, it forms a logically determined structure of
conceptual forms. Hegel neglects the opposition between
what ought to be and what is, which Kant had declared
to be the relation between moral and natural law. "What
is rational is real, and what is real is rational."^ We have
a reversion to the purely contemplative standpoint of
Spinoza's ethics. But this new Spinozism differs from the
old in two essential points. First, the ethics of Spinoza,
in accordance with the tendency of his time, remained
individualistic Wherein consists the happiness of the
individual? That was the moral problem as he conceived
it For Hegel, on the other hand, those aspects of the moral

^ KecktspkiiosopkU. Pre&ce, p. 17. Works, voL viU.

374-5] Ethics of Kant and Speculative Idealism 125

life which relate to the single moral personality, such as the
rights which the individual may claim from others or from
the community, and subjective morality in general, are the
lower aspects ; while true morality is exercised in the
ordinances of the community, in the family, in civic society,
and, finally, in the moral spirit of the world's history.^ Hegel,
therefore, places the source of morality not in the subjective
but in the objective will, i>. that impersonal power of the
universal world-reason which is shared and actualised by
individual wills. This general conception of morality revives
in a broader spirit the fundamental thought of the Platonic
politics, namely, that the good can be attained only in the
State, and then not as the good of individuals, but as a good
which becomes objective in the political community itself.
The second important difference between Hegel and Spinoza
consists in Hegel's introduction of the idea of development,
Hegel's philosophy, too, is evolutionism, but in quite a
different sense from that of Leibniz or Fichte. For Hegel
the question at issue does not concern the perfection of the
moral subject; the process of development takes place in
the domain of objective knowledge, the universal world-
reason. The motive power of this development is no longer
held to lie in subjective freedom of the will, but is rather
conceived of as the logical necessity immanent in reason.
Hegel's view of the world is as much influenced by the
notion of necessity as is Spinoza's; but the latter's concep-
tion of fixed unalterable substance has given place to that
of the development of Absolute Reason.

Undoubtedly the importance of the Hegelian philosophy,
so far as ethics is concerned, rests on its complete avoidance
of the customary subjective view of ethics, of which only
a faint trace remains in the relation of law and morals to

* Rcektsphihsophie^ p. 312. EncyklopaedU d, pkibs, Wissinschaften^ iii.,
p. 376. Works, voL tu., port ii.

126 Modern Ethics L375-6

the individual personality. The ethos is no longer merely
individual ; individuals partake of it and realise it, but the
ethos itself in all its forms is the world-will, the objectifi-
cation of the Absolute Reason, the unfolding of divinity
in the human race and its history. This is certainly a
loftier conception than that of ordinary subjectivistic morals,
and it brings out a noteworthy defect in the latter. Sub-
jective ethics assumes as an a priori certainty that society
exists only for the individual. It knows the ethos only
under the form of the individual moral personality.
Evidently moral judgment must take on a different
character as soon as it is posited that the State, society,
and history are not merely means to serve individual ends,
but ends in the$nselves ; that they possess an independent
ethos to which individuals are but auxiliary.

To have raised this question must be r^^ded as a great
merit on the part of post-Kantian Idealism, and especially
of Hegel. It is a merit which to a certain extent outweighs
the many defects of his system, such as his arrogant attitude
towards the special sciences and the empty formalism of his
dialectical method. But whether his theory did not defeat
its own ends by too corhplete a disregard of the individual
aspect of morals is another and quite pertinent question.
Spinoza, whose whole theory of the universe was determined
by religious needs, identified morality with subjective religious
absorption in the idea of the Absolute. It thus became
for him a purely internal process. For Hegel it coincides
with the objective historical development of the Absolute.
But at the same time it gets so thoroughly involved with
historical and factual elements that moral distinctions in
the various departments of real life are quite neglected
This tendency to exalt that which is transient, that which
is conditioned in the realm of Absolute Reason by transitory
historical influences, is peculiarly damaging to HegeFs theory

376-7] Ethics of Kant and Speculative Idealism 127

of the State, which is copied after the abstract bureau-
cracy of the time of the Restoration, with its empty
constitutional forms, wholly out of touch with the vital
development of a national spirit.

H^el himself regards individuals as sharing in the
universal world-reason, and in the same way it may be
said of his system that it partook of theories which were
widely current in his time. This is shown by the fact
that a number of contemporary thinkers, who differ from
Hegel in many of their fundamental assumptions, agree
with him in regarding morality as the activity of a universal
world-reason, and in ascribing the very highest value to
the civic and social aspects of moral life.

{d) Intertnediary Tendencies between Universalism and
Individualism,

In discussing the systems which fall under this head, we
ought to pay particular attention to those which, in opposition
to Hegel's extreme preference for the universal and objective
forms of morality, assign the individual a juster position
in the totality of moral life. Among the adherents of such
systems Schleiennaclur and Krause are especially noteworthy
for the depth and force of their ethical views.

ScJileierfPiachet^s theory of morals is, by reason of its
dialectical expression, most closely akin to the speculative
ethics of Fichte and HegeL Just as even in his dialectic
he attempts to reconcile idealism and realism by assuming
real forms and combinations of things to correspond with
the conceptual forms and connections of our thought and
by making the process of knowledge to consist in a union
of the two,* so in the domain of ethics he begins by
setting reason over against nature. He thus makes the
scope of morality very wide; its content is the operation

> DiaUktik^ edited by Jonas, § io6 C

128 Modem Ethics [377-s

of reason upon nature} In a union of the two consists
the concept of the good. There are as many goods as
there are externally operative forms of reason; from the
totality of them arises the concept of the summum bonum?'
The power of reason over nature is virtue; the law according
to which this power works is duty? We can trace Fichte's
influence in these opinions ; but here nature is not regarded
as a limitation from which the moral will strives to be free ; it
has become a real force, which is as necessary to the activity
of reason, if morality is to result, as matter is to form.
The importance of nature is still more clearly shown when
Schleiermacher treats the processes of nature as preliminary
stages to moral action. In mechanism and chemism, in
v^etation and the growth of animals, we find the beginning
of that unifying of reason and nature whose highest
stage is human culture. This is a repetition of Hegel's
attempt to resolve morality into a universal process of
development which ultimately involves both nature and
spirit: but it is a repetition varied by the introduction of
an antithesis beti^'een reason and nature. The operation
of reason, which displays itself in the lower stages as
impulse^ in the higher stages as will^ is further divisible,
according to Schleiermacher, into an organising and a
symbolising power. The oi^nising power strives to operate
as such on nature, to actualise the law of reason in the
natural world ; the symbolising power makes use of nature
to obtain external sensuous symbols of its action. Thus,
traffic and property belong to the domain of the organising
activity, speech and art to that of the symbolising power ;
speech being the mode of expressing thought, and art

* Grttndriss d. fhUosophi sehen Ethik, edited by Tewsten. Introdoction,
iL and iii.

* Philos, Ethik, pp. 38 ff. Grundlinien einer Kritik der hishtrigen Sittenlehre^
p. 231.

» Philos. Ethik, pp. 179, 207.

378-9] Ethics of Kant and Speculative Idealism 129

that of expressing feeling. To these four spheres of rational
activity there correspond finally four ethical organisations:
the state^ the social community ^ the school and the church.
These Schleiermacher brings into a certain relation with his
four cardinal virtues: prudence, perseverance, wisdom and
love?- And he further assumes four corresponding spheres
of obligation: legal obligation, professiofuzl obligation, the
obligation of love and that of conscience. The general
contents of these is determined by the formulation of the
moral laws.*

Unlike the Kantian formula, this theory defines the
contents of moral action with the utmost completeness. The
general character of Schleiermacher's ethics resembles that
of Fichte's system. But he goes a step beyond Fichte in
two respects. First, he does not regard the subject to which
the moral law relates as indefinite, universal, or everywhere
alike ; it is the concrete individual personality with its peculiar
dispositions and powers, and its specific moral function
thereby determined. For him morality is universal only
in so far as human nature is the same : it becomes individual
as soon as the question is raised as to the peculiarities of the
individual or his position in relation to the social organism.
Schleiermacher's talent for the practical is nowhere more
evident than in the emphasis which he lays upon the
necessity of individualising morals. Here he introduces
into ethical theory an element too little regarded hitherto.
But he is far from wishing to treat ethics after the manner
of Kant and of Fichte in his earlier speculations from an
exdusivcly individual standpoint His view is rather that
the value of the specific moral character of the individual
personality consists in the fact that it occupies a definite
place, peculiar to itself alone, in the moral whole ; and hence
he emphasises, as none of his predecessors did, the moral

* 0/>, at., pp. 179-206. * Op. nt., pp. 214-226.

II. K

130 Modem Ethics [379-80

significance of the calling or vocation. He agrees with
Hegel that moral culture as a whole, realised in society,
the State and humanity, has a higher importance than the
single personality ; but he will not allow the latter to be lost
sight of in the former. He seeks rather to emphasise the
importance of the individual to himself and to the whole.

The profundity of Schleiermacher's ethical speculations
would perhaps be more convincingly evident if his theory
were not marred by his dialectical prejudices, and by the
consequent unwarrantable intermixture of natural philo-
sophy. In this respect, however, the whole period was
under the sway of Schelling's Philosophy of Identity. It is
Schelling who dominates the thinker whose general ethical
tendency is most closely akin to that of Schleiermacher,
however different their views on other subjects, — Karl
Christian Krctuse,

In Krause's philosophy we are repelled not only by the
presence of certain speculative views now abandoned, but
to a still greater degree by the remarkable terminology
which he invented for himself. The disrepute into which
his philosophical system has long since fallen is largely due
to these exterior circumstances.^ We may pass over his
methodological principles with the more justice, since he does
not possess any which we should to-day consider deserving
of the name. He is governed by Schelling's doctrine of
intellectual intuition,' that modem form of Neo-Platonic
ecstasy,^ which leads him at times to r^[ard the fantasies of
Swedenborg as philosophical revelations, with the result

* We are especially indebted to Knuse's juristic followers for having ooo-
tribatcd to the spread of his views hjr means of readable expositions. CC Rödbr,
Crumdügi dis Naturrechts uttd dir Reckt$phil$$0pku (sic I), and. ed., Leipzig and
Heidelberg, 1863. Ahrbns, Naturrtekt oder Pkitosopkiedes Rechts und des Stamtetf
6th ed., vol. iL, Vienna, i870>7i.

* LeSemiehre ustd Philosophie der CaehkhU^ edited bjr Leonhardi, 1S43, p. 155.
System dor RochtsphihsophU^ edited by Röder, 1874, pp. 73, 463 iL SysUm der
SitiemUhre^ L, 1810^ p. 397.

380-1] Ethics of Kant and Speculative Idealism 131

that even in his philosophy of law he considers at length
humanity as it exists in other worlds and in the whole
universe. But, aside from all these fantastic notions, there
are plenty of profound and significant ideas in Krause
which ethical theory ought not to fordet Krause himself
called his philosophy * Panentheism/ He meant that, while
assuming the most intimate connection between God, the
world and individuals, he avoided the pantheistic error of
losing sight of God in the world or of individuals in the
union of both. Here again we are reminded of Neo-
Platonism ; but Krause succeeded no better than his
predecessors in making the emanation doctrine clear and
comprehensible. Yet we must not overlook the fact that
this doctrine permeates all his ethical views. Good originates
through the operation of the primal divine will in human
wills ; hence the good is a universal law, and must be willed
for its own sake.^ Evil arises by reason of the limitation
of the individual being, and hence, like a resolved disson-
ance, vanishes in the coherence of the whole. Indeed, the
optimistic philosopher is persuaded that even in actual life,
through the pr<^ess of education and culture, science and
art, evil will become rarer and there will be an increasing
tendency to regard it as merely a pathological phenomenon.*
It is unnecessary to remark that these ideas are in no
sense new. Their application, however, to the social life
of man, as exercised in law, the State and history, may be
regarded as new. Krause considers that all law originates
in God, from whom proceed also the historical life of
humanity and the divisions of society, down to the individual
personality. In the organic structure of society, the universal
has a higher importance, and therefore higher rights, than
the more particular. Thus the State is subordinate to
humanity as a whole, its various divisions to the State,

* Syttim der SitUnUkre^ i., pp. 279 ff. « Ihid,^ i., pp. 350 ft

132 Modern Ethics [381

and, lastly, the individual personality is subordinate to the
divisions of the State. Law in general, however, embraces
not only the external but also the internal conditions of life ;
its function is to place each man in a position to make his
life the full expression of his spiritual nature, and thus to
be true to the vocation which has fallen to his lot as a part
of the oi^anic whole of humanity.^ By reason of this
primary right of personality, even the restriction imposed
upon the freedom of the malefactor must be used only as
a means, never as an end. He should be treated as a minor,
to be restored, where possible, to his place in society by
education and enlightenment concerning his own actual
rights and those of others.' Just as the individual is
contained in the State and the State in organised humanity,
so the historical life of humanity reproduces the life-periods
of the individual ; it has a period of germination, of growth,
and of maturity, at whose expiration the same evolution
begins again on a higher plane, and so on o^ infinitum.^
The ruling motive here is apparently the desire to do
justice to all the aspects of morality, to the individual moral
personality as well as to the realisation of moral ideas in
law, the State and society ; the endeavour to assign to each
department of morals in this ' oi^nised structure ' its proper
place with reference to the whole. Here Krause resembles
Schleiermacher. But how inferior he is in definiteness of
conception! True, Schleiermacher's ethics was based on a
speculative philosophy of nature, and the fact was not to
its advantage; but its detailed development is sufficiently
independent With Krause metaphysics, ethics, esthetics,
the theory of law and politics, are blended in a mystical
theosophy. The good and beautiful become a direct
intuition of the divine ; all objective moral facts are ^ a

^ System d, SiiUnUkn^ p. 414.

* RecktsphilosophU^ p. 310. LebenUkre und Philos. d, Gtsckichte, pp. 307 AT.

* SysUm d, SittitUikrt, p. 541.

381-2] Ethics of Kant and Spectilative Idealism 1 33

manifestation of God in the finite." What the good and
beautiful really are in themselves ; how law and the State
originate in their empirical reality, we do not learn ; we
must rest content with such explanations as "the inter-
mingling of the primal Will with individual wills," and
"the manifestation of God in history." Still, one point
which Schleiermacher neglected is brought out by Krause.
Despite his fantastic sentimentalities, his true historical sense
made him a profounder student of the problems of objective
morality in law, the State and history. Here Krause is in
touch with Hegel, from whom, however, he is distinguished
by his higher idea of the importance of the individual
moral personality, which makes an essential difference in
his conception of law. This is especially noteworthy in
the emphasis he lays on a fundamental principle which
is completely opposed to the older theories of law, — the
principle that law is the oi^anic whole of all the conditions of
life that are dependent on human freedom. This conception
alone insures to Krause an honourable place in the history
of modem ethics, although there is little in his more detailed
discussions that can be regarded as permanent

While the thinkers whose systems we have been describing
are marked by an endeavour to do justice to the importance
of the individual in the totality of moral life, ScJtopcnhauer^
one of the last adherents of speculative idealism, shows a
tendency completely opposite, though he, too, assumes that
morality becomes objective in the State and in history. For
him the individual personality is empty and transitory ; only
the race endures, for whose ends the individual works and
sacrifices, all unconscious of the fact ; indeed, deluding
himself with the idea that he is furthering his own happi-
ness.* Even the life of the race is an oscillation between

» The World as WiU and Idea, i., especially {{ 66-68. FrtisstkHft über du
Grundlage der Morale 2nd edition, { i6 and { 22.

134 Modern Ethics [382-3

death and generation, where nothing is permanent save pain
and the delusion of the individual. The State is a compul-
sory institution which holds in check the egoistic impulses
and employs the terrors of punishment as the best means
to that end. History is a fool's comedy, where every player
thinks to deceive others and ends by deceiving himself. Art
alone creates a temporary happiness, by rising to the pure,
disinterested contemplation of ideas. The only permanent
satisfaction, however, arises from a negation of the will, the
abandonment of all effort ; including in its completed form
the effort after life itself. But the characteristic features of
post-Kantian ethical speculation are evident even in Scho-
penhauer, for he can find no other source for the moral
impulse save the universal world-will, where individual
differences vanish. His moral principle, sympathy, appears
to him incapable of empirical derivation. It is, as he
expresses it, a mystery, which is revealed only in the *Ei^
Koi iroif, in the truth that the Ego sees itself in others
and, therefore, feels their sorrow as its own. Thus, almost
against his will, the universalistic tendency of modem ethics
betrays itself in the speculations of this unworldly philo-
sopher.

4. MODERN REALISTIC ETHICS.

Under the head of realistic ethics we may class all those
systems which seek to derive ethical principles from the
real relations of the moral life. These principles may at the
same time possess an ideal character, in so far as we g^nt
that under the form which the theory gives them they never
attain complete and adequate realisation in experience. But
they must not be derived from ideal presuppositions, i>., from
such as cannot be substantiated in the real world.

Since realistic ethics sets out from the real moral facts
of experience, its closest affinity is with the previous
developments of empirical moral philosophy, to which it

383-4] Modern Realistic Ethics 135

bears a relation like that of the modem theories of specula-
tive Idealism to earlier metaphysics. As regards its
experiential basis, it may be considered simply a continua-
tion of ethical empiricism. But while the latter was almost
wholly occupied with investigating the motives of morality,
and took comparatively little interest in its ends, it is the
moral end which is the especial problem of the ethics of
modem realism. In treating this problem, it is impossible
to confine oneself wholly to the ground of experience, for
these ends are represented as to be realised only in the
future, and sometimes as entirely idecU, never to be com-
pletely attained. Still, the attitude of this system towards
the moral ends remains realistic, for it regards them as
belonging to the sense-world, and not, after the manner
of Idealism, as transcendent, or as parts of a world-end,
which is as a whole supersensuous.

(a) Herbarts Practical Philosophy.

The superiority of modem realistic ethics over its
empirical predecessor as regards the point just discussed
is especially apparent in the fact that, while the latter is
always hostile to every form of metaphysics, for the former
such hostility is quite unnecessary. Herbart is an important
witness to this fact True, he shows a desire to make ethics
itself, at least, independent of metaphysical assumptions.
He intentionally emphasises the statement that his practical
philosophy may be followed without embracing his theoretical
views and vice versa. Yet his metaphysics is also realistic; in
fact, it is with especial reference to metaphysics that he calls
himself an adherent of realism. But it is realistic in a difler-
ent sense from his ethics ; it is realistic as regards its end, not
its presuppositions. These latter are not derived from reality,
but from ideal postulates ; their object, however, is to make
what happens in the real world conceivable, and Herbart

136 Modem Ethics [384-5

expressly declines to make any excursion into transcendental
realms, e.g., into a discussion of the concept of God. Her-
bart's ethics, on the other hand, is realistic as regards its
presuppositions, not its end. These presuppositions are
derived from the empirical relations of the will. The moral
end, however, is regarded as the realisation of certain ideas^
which originate in these relations of the will, and whose full
and undisturbed realisation can never be brought about in
actual experience.

Since, according to Herbart, the pleasure which arises from
relations is, generally speaking, of an cesthetic character, he
classes ethics under the head of aesthetics. Here he bears a
certain likeness to Shaftesbury. But the definite classification
of those relations of will which are objects of approval, the
derivation of moral ideas from these relations, and, finally, the
deduction of moral systems from these ideas, — all this is pecu-
liar to Herbart* He distinguishes five relations of will, five
ideas, and five systems. First, the qualitative relation of the
will to //j^^ corresponds to the Idea of Internal Freedom^ and
this idea, applied to a multitude of beings possessing will,
gives rise to the System of Animate Society ; secondly, the
quantitative relation of will to itself corresponds to the Idea
ol Perfection, and this idea becomes when applied to animate
society a System of Culture^ which manifests itself in the
effort towards the greatest possible perfection of all individual
powers ; thirdly, we have the ideated relation of one's own
will to that of another, the Idea of Benevolence, and the
System of Administration, which seeks the greatest possible
welfare of all ; fourthly, there is the actucU relation of two
wills to a single object^ which both desire, the Idea of
Law^ and the S>'stem of LegcU Society^ which settles all
conflicts ; fifthly and lastly, there is the relation of will to a

* Cf. Allipemeifu praktisfhe Pkitosophie, Works, vol. viii ; mnd Lehrbuch tur
EinUUttn^in die Philosophie, sect. iiL, Works, voL L

385-6] Modem Realistic Ethics 137

completed action^ the Idea of Retribution^ and the System of
Rewards and Petialties,

The intimate relation between ethics and the Philosophy
of Law, which Herbart endeavours to establish in these
speculations, has g^ven his practical philosophy many ad-
herents in juristic circles.^ But the weakness of his ethical
system lies in its formalism, which is the defect of the
Herbartian aesthetics in general. In aesthetics proper it is,
perhaps, less noticeable than in ethics. The formal relations
of a work of art are always co-determining factors of beauty,
though often factors of inferior importance. But the formal
relations of the will are in themselves objects neither of moral
approbation nor disapprobation; within one and the same
relation we may have that which deserves disapprobation,
that which merits approbation, or even that which is wholly
indifferent. The relations of will are thus only the most uni-
versal forms of voluntary activity, which have no connection
with the ethical contents of that activity. Consequently
Herbart often finds himself obliged to add to his relations
of will further ethical predicates, such as good, praiseworthy,
etc, which are designed to avoid indefiniteness, but are not
themselves defined more closely. Herbart's ethics does not
answer the question as to the ground of the binding force
of moral laws, any more than his formal definition of the
aesthetic explains the effect of beauty on the human tempera-
ment Man, as constructed by Herbart, is a coolly calculating,
ideational automaton. When his ideas are in equilibrium, he
gives his approval ; when they are not, he refuses it No one
not previously aware of the fact would ever guess that upon
these relations of idea and will depend all the weal and
woe of mankind. But while the system as a whole is so

^ Cf, especially Geyer, Phüosopkis<ki Einleitung in die Reckt swissemckaft^
in HOLTZENDORFF*s Encyklopädit d, Keektswissensik,, Syst. Part, 4th ed.
Leipdg, 1882.

138 Modem Ethics [386-7

unsatisfactory, it cannot be denied that some of Herbart's
observations are truly illuminating. Even the careful and
formal division of the various departments of moral life is a
service to ethics, though the derivation of these departments
from particular relations of will is forced and one-sided.

For the rest, there is one point where this philosophy is in
accord with contemporary idealistic ethics; an agreement
all the more remarkable from the fact that just here Herbart
contradicts his own metaphysics. The latter is individualistic:
it is more individualistic than its predecessor, the Leibnizian
doctrine of monads. Leibniz had found in the universal
harmony of the monads a bond of coherence which did away
with the limitations of the individual being in most important
respects. Herbart rejects this harmony. The single, simple
being becomes aware of the existence of other beings only
through the disturbances which it experiences from them;
and it seems almost astonishing that the notion of self-
maintenance against these disturbances, which is the basis of
all ideation and feeling, should not give to Herbart's ethics an
exclusively individualistic trend Yet this is not the case:
Herbart assumes in animate society a collective will^ to which
all individual wills arc subordinate, and to which there corres-
ponds, not indeed an actual, but yet an ideal social soul,
analogous in its manifestations to individual souls in that
these latter arc related to it as individual ideas to their union
in a single consciousness,* Aside from the peculiar colouring
which these doctrines borrow from the metaphysical and
ethical realism of the philosopher, they seem but little
removed from the view of Hegel, according to which indivi-
dual wills everywhere, in society, the State, and history»
partake of and realise a collective will. And in still another

^ Allg. fraki, Phihiophie^ book L, chap. ziL; mod Uthtr Hnigt BttUkungm
twischen Psychologie wtd Staaiswisstmckafl^ Works, voL ii., p. 2oi. Cf, also
Psychologic als irissenscAa/l, port ii. Works, voL vL, pp. 31-48.

387-8] Modem Realistic Ethics 139

point, which marks the influence of the spirit of the age, the
two philosophies resemble each other. Herbart's practical
philosophy, like that of Hegel, is pervaded by an atmosphere
of contemplation, remote from strife and passion. While
Hegel exalted reality into the domain of eternal reason,
Herbart's abstract forms, too, seem to be suspended in a
region beyond the moral forces of actual life.

ip) German Naturalism and Materialism.

Herbart's Realism opposed speculative Idealism from the
standpoint of a contemporary system, and one which
resembled Idealism in the fundamental tendency of its
speculation and in other characteristics which were dependent
on the spirit of the times. But a deeper and more decided
opposition gradually arose out of Idealism itself: the opposi-
tion of the younger Hegelian school and its allied tenden-
cies, Naturalism and Materialism. Intellectually regarded,
Ludwig Feuerbach is the most important representative of
this counter-current Starting as a Hegelian, he gradually
became transformed into a bitter opponent both of the
method and of the foundation principles of his quondam
master. He thus came to be the leader of the powerful and
growing opposition to the speculative philosophy, while at
the same time he gave to the ethics of modem German
materialism its peculiar stamp of ideality, as compared with
the earlier French and English materialism.

Feuerbach's historical relation to preceding systems is
shown in the fact that the philosophy of religion is the centre
of his theory. He almost reminds one of Krause in this
respect But while Krause transformed the whole of philo-
sophy into theosophy, Feuerbach reduces all metaphysics,
psychology and ethics to an occult theology, and then
proceeds to show that the true essence of theology is
anthropology. He identifies the gods with the wishes of

140 Modern Ethics [388

men, and regards man's striving for happiness as the root
of all morality. This striving, again, is itself intimately
connected with man's sensuous nature, so that the suppo-
sition of a spirit independent of sense, or of spiritual ends
which are not also sensuous ends, is an unreal abstrac-
tion. Hence the will is no abstract and universal entity,
transcending the separate acts of will ; it is concrete willing,
temporally and sensuously conditioned.^ The will has no law
which is hostile to the sensuous impulses ; its highest law
is no other than the most powerful of all impulses, the
impulse to seek happiness. "That which hinders my
impulse towards happiness, that which gainsays in any way
my love for property or self, that must not and cannot be." *
But it is not an egoistic ethics which Feuerbach derives from
this principle of self-love. He himself points out that
the fundamental difference between German and French
materialism lies just at this point While the latter had
its origin in the Revolution, the former grew out of the
Reformation^ which first proved the truth of the saying
* God is love.' For it regarded the divine love not as actus
purus^ after the fashion of mediaeval scholasticism, but as
true love, i>., " love moved by the actual material sorrows of
humanity."* But the root of this love is self-love. Just as an
immaterial spirit is an empty creation of thought, so there is
no such thing as a subject without an object, no I without
a Thou, no love of self without a love of one's neighbour.
This natural coherence finds its most direct expression in
the relation of the sexes. Further, Feuerbach thinks that
the true contents of the Christian dogma of the Trinity
may be stated as follows. The unity of the subject is
figuratively resolved into a duality; over against God
the Father as self-existent Intelligence, we have the Son

* Gottheit^ Freiheit, und UnsUrbOckkeii» Works, x., pp. 50 ff.
« O/. cil., p. 93. » Ö/. «v., p. 118.

388-9] Modern Realistic Ethics 141

as Love, "diverse as regards personality, identical as regards
essence." This identity is expressed by an unnecessary
hypostasising of the relation under the form of the Holy
Ghost The Catholic cult of Mary, again, is a proof that
love for woman is the basis of universal love. Feuerbach,
of course, thinks that the reality of these religious concep-
tions is conditioned on their meeting an unsatisfied need.
As Protestantism set aside the Mother of God, "that it
might in her stead take earthly woman into its heart," so the
man who recognises no life other than that of the senses
as real will give up Father and Son also. For "he alone
needs heavenly parents who has none on earth." ^

In this way Feuerbach supplements the principle of self-
love, which had obtained complete predominance in French
materialism, by borrowing the notion of sympathy from the
emotional ethics. His proof of their union, however, despite
his sweeping rejection of the unpsychological theories of will
held by the speculative philosophy, must undoubtedly be
termed dialectical rather than psychological. Similarly, his
anthropopathic conception of religious ideas is something
between a symbolic interpretation and a psychological
explanation. Yet more striking than this lack of psycho-
logical depth IS the total absence of any epistemological
basis to the system. In this Hegel's influence is still
apparent. Here, too, Feuerbach is a prototype of the
materialism of to-day. Despite his insistence on the doc-
trine that the individual personality is incomplete without
the influence of others, his theory never transcends the limits
of the individual. Indeed, he regards man's relations to his
fellow-men as narrowed within the bounds of direct personal
intercourse. The allied movements of thought which were
then prevalent in England and France had advanced far
beyond Feuerbach in this respect.

^ The Etsimt of Christianity^ tr. by Marian Evans» p. 73.

142 Modern Ethics [389-90

{c) Utilitarianism and Positivism in England and France,

While the development of modern ethical theory in
England proceeds from the empiricism and utilitarianism of
the school of Locke, it is influenced also by the Scottish
philosophy of the preceding period, that of Hume and Adam
Smith, and hence allows a certain importance to the element
of feeling, though Locke's standpoint of reflection is still the
prevailing attitude. In one point alone does the new ethics
advance beyond this standpoint: it ascribes the most
fundamental importance to the common welfare. This
tendency towards universalism marks a return to the founder
of English ethics, to Bacon ; while at the same time the new
theory, at least as regards its conception of the moral end^
forsakes the path hitherto followed by empiricism. For it
considers this end as, to a certain extent, idecd^ to be realised
only in the future. This looking towards the future gradually
prepares the way for an evolutionary ethics, wherein we find
much that resembles the earlier philosophy of the German
Enlightenment, much even that shows an affinity with
modem German Idealism. From the latter, however, it
is distinguished not only by its wholly empirical treatment
of the moral motive, but also by its realistic conception of
the end. Since by society it means nothing other than
the sum total of individuals, its conception of the common
welfare always coincides with that of the welfare of all, or of
the majority of individuals. Its universalism thus maintains
an individualistic basis.

The works oi feretny Bentham^ are the pioneers in this
movement Bentham, like Bacon before him, regards

^ 0€wvrts d€ J. Btntham^ Bruxelles, 1829, vols. L-iii. Therein etpedallx:
*' Trait^ de legislation," par E. Dumont, " Prindpes," in vol L, and " Theorie
des peines et des recompenses,'* in voL iL Both these works are independent
productions, not translations.

39(>-i] Modern Realistic Ethics 143

politics and jurisprudence as of the first importance. Thus
he sets out with the assumption that ethics should be based
on the same general principle as legislation, and hence the
conception of the common welfare at once occupies the centre
of ethical interest But while Bacon left this conception
indefinite, Bentham defines it as " the greatest possible
welfare of the greatest possible number," or, as he more
briefly expresses it, "the maximum of happiness." Now
there is something vague about this greatest possible good of
the greatest possible number. Aside from the fact that the
quantity of the universal welfare is thereby obviously made
dependent on the conditions of existence, which are by their
very nature subject to change, the general question arises as
to whether in measuring the maximum of happiness the
intensity of the pleasure or its extensive distribution is of
more importance; whether, that is to say, it is better for
a small number to enjoy a high degree of happiness, or for a
greater number to have a relatively lower degree of happiness.
Bentham seeks to solve this problem by first investigating
the principal forms of pleasure and pain, starting with the
simple joys of the senses, and ending with the more complex
enjoyments which are furnished by our relations to other
men and by social life. The result of this investigation goes
to show that the joys of wealth assume a central position,
inasmuch as wealth furnishes the means whereby we may
obtain the other forms of enjoyment, such as the pleasures
of sense, of independence, power, benevolence, etc. Thus
I^slation, besides making possible the maintenance of
individual existence, must assure to the citizens, not only
security and equality, but above all prosperity. By reason
of the important place which prosperity occupies in the
system of goods, in that it is not so much a good in itself as
a means to the attainment of goods, the question as to
the relation between intensity and extensity of welfare

144 Modem Ethics [391-2

reduces itself to this form : Is the common welfare greater
when a few people enjoy great prosperity, or when many
people enjoy moderate prosperity? Bentham answers the
question in a manner that recalls Daniel Bernoulli's mensura
sortis. The latter had observed in the matter of gambling
that the increase of satisfaction produced by the winning
of a given sum is inversely proportional to the amount
already possessed. Bentham deduces the following more
general, but more indefinite argument To every quantity
of riches there corresponds a quantity of happiness ; there-
fore, of two individuals with unequal possessions, other
things being equal, the richer will always be the happier,
but the rich man's surplus of happiness will not equal his
surplus of riches. Thus, the more the ratio of the possessions
owned by the citizens of a commonwealth approaches unity,
the greater the sum of happiness. This conclusion would
lead directly to communism, if another consideration did not
intervene. The State has to assure, not only prosperity and
equality to its citizens, but also security; indeed, security
is the higher good, for when it is in danger all other
goods are endangered too. But nothing is more counter
to the principle of security than an infringement of private
property. Thus Bentham reaches the remarkable conclusion,
which he naturally does not express, that the ** maximum of
happiness" required by his moral principle is unattainable,
because an equal distribution of property, which is a
necessary condition thereto, can never be carried out on
account of the political dangers involved

Although Bentham does not consciously identify happi-
ness with sense-pleasure in the spirit of hedonism, his views
show a tendency in that direction by reason of the im-
portance he ascribes to material possessions. However much
he may dwell on the fact that wealth is the means through
which we obtain spiritual as well as sensuous pleasures, there

392-3] Modem Realistic Ethics 145

is no doubt that the former are less immediately dependent
on material wealth than the latter. This narrow view of
external goods as the means for the production of internal
goods is responsible, too, for the utilitarian character of
Bentham's thought. The useful exists not for its own sake
but for the objects it serves. In this sense wealth is par
excellence useful. In the same way, the other enjoyments
which make up the sum of human happiness, such as skill,
friendship, power, benevolence, etc., reciprocally aid each
other.

Unlike Hume and Smith, Bentham gave but little atten-
tion to the psychological motives of morality. His treatment
here occupies a middle position between the emotional and
intellectual ethics of his predecessors. Pleasure and pain
are for him not merely the end of moral action, as the
principle of the maximum of happiness indicates ; they are
its motives. ^ They alone determine both what we shall do
and what we ought to do." As motives, however, they enter
the service of reason^ which indicates the right way whereby
through our acts and through a properly ordered legislation
not only our own happiness, but that of our fellow-men may
be furthered. Reason is here guided partly by physical
influences, in that we experience useful and harmful effects
on our own bodies ; partly by political influences, where
existing legislation shows us the right path ; partly, in fine,
by social and religious sanctions in the form of public opinion
and religious requirements. In these sanctions of the prin-
ciple of utility we have a repetition of the corresponding
distinctions made by Locke, save that Bentham ascribes
a still greater relative importance to the natural law endlich
every man finds in his own reason. Locke had made an
exception at least of the requirements of religion; but
Bentham regards all the sanctions as having their source
in rational deliberation. He thus makes the intellectual

II. L

146 Modem Ethics [393-4

motives predominate. In accordance with this view, when
he fa investigating the motives of altruistic action, he admits
the importance not only of benevolence, but of the ambition
for a good reputation, the desire to win friends, and to
conform to the precepts of religion« And with Hobbes and
Locke he answers the question as to how we are enabled
to prefer the common welfare to our own, by saying that
while originally egofam was the only motive impelling man-
kind, deliberation soon taught the individual that it was
beneficial to appear before the world as careless of his own
interests. The mere appearance, however, involves the
danger of being discovered as an impostor ; and so it finally
proves most advantageous actually to possess the character
which one formerly appeared to have. This derivation of
altruism makes one think of the theories of Mandeville and
Helvetius. At the same time we can see how important
a part reflection still plays in the theory, when we consider
what a complex chain of reasoning fa required to reach the
conclusion that it fa for one's own interest to further the
common welfare, and that to do so unselfishly fa the very
best way of serving one's own interest

Bentham's moral philosophy certainly does not owe its
lasting influence to thfa unimportant and unoriginal dis-
cussion of the psychological motives of morality. If we
except a few isolated observations which show the clear-
sightedness of thfa man to whom the legislation of hfa
country owed so much, hfa influence fa due chiefly to hfa
happy formulation of the principle of the maximum of
happiness. Henceforth social utilitarianism had a shibboleth
which set a practical limit to the impossible demand for the
equal happiness of all, and which was at the same time
sufficiently vague to be combined with the most diverse
social and political views.

As r^^ds their fundamental tendency, Bentham's utili-

394] Modem Realistic Ethics 147

tarianism and Auguste Comtess Positivism are in complete
agreement Comte too bases the happiness of the individual
on the state of civil society ; and maintains that the compli-
cated conditions which secure social equilibrium allow only
of a relative, never of an absolute maximum of happiness.
But his conception of society supplements Bentham's in an
important particular. Bentham, in his intellectual view of
the moral motive, as in his unhistorical conception of the
State and society, belongs wholly to the eighteenth century.
Comte's philosophy, on the other hand, is as full of the idea
of historical development as that of H^el. But while with
Hegel the schema of the dialectical method had to be applied
in order to bring the course of history under the rules of
universal reason, Comte comprehended the past and pre-
scribed rules for the present and future by the help of an
abstraction which had, perhaps, more of an empirical basis
than Hegel's method, but was for that very reason less
adequate. His " Law of the Three Stages," according to
which humanity is governed first by theological ideas, then
by metaphysical ideas, lastly and definitively by positive ideas
derived from the actual world alone, not only furnishes him
with an outline in which to depict the development of the
scientific spirit under an aspect grand despite its incomplete-
ness, but serves as a standard by which to pass judgment
upon political history and the social condition of various
peoples.^ Here, of course, the important thing is not so
much the original law as the auxiliary hypothesis that to
the theological stage there corresponds the warlike state of
culture, and to the positive stage the industrial period, while
the metaphysical stage, which, intellectually r^^rded, is inter-
mediate between mythology and science, represents, socially
r^arded, a period of transition. This historico-philosophical
standpoint enables Comte to estimate the relative importance

' Court di PhihsopkU Patiiwi^ toL L, Icsk» t; vol hr., Icsk» 51.

148 Modem Ethics [394-s

of the various characteristics of past stages of civih'sation,
such as slavery among the ancients or the hierarchy of the
mediaeval church, and to point out their functions in the
development of culture. Unfortunately, however, Comtess
philosophy of history suffers, perhaps, more than any similar
system from an ambition to comprehend the final goal of
history. As the positive and final stage of science lies for
Comte wholly within the horizon of French mathematics and
mathematical science in the first decade of our century, so
the advancement of industry during this period furnishes him
with a standard whereby he measures the highest stage of
social and political development, which is to follow imme-
diately. A division of labour in which everyone is assigned
an activity suited to his capacities; a mastery of nature
constantly becoming more complete through the increase of
intellectual and physical forces attained by such a division ;
these constitute for Comte the ultimate end of the social
organisation. The final task of government is to combine
individual forces to this universal object, to avoid division
and harmful friction among them. Ordre et Progres he
declares to be respectively the basis and the aim of society,
and thus his views are in complete opposition to the revo-
lutionary theories of society current in the preceding century.*
Moreover, progress with him is not merely advancement of
the welfare of the individual or of the greatest number, as
with contemporary Utilitarianbm. For 'society,' which he
identifies with the State after the manner of the Contrat
social, is more than the sum of individuals. Supreme above
individuals, and guided by a government which orders and
regulates work and education, it is that which directs all
individual forces to the service of the highest ends of
humanity, mastery of nature and knowledge of the laws of
phenomena.^ Thus the ideal of the positive age, whose

^ Pkihs, Pos.^ vol vl, lesson 57. ' Op, cit,., lesson 60.

395-6] Modem Realistic E ikies 149

dawn Comte heralds, makes the last and highest goal of
human effort to consist not merely in a bountiful supply of
material goods, but in the satisfaction of intellectual interest,
which wisely restricts itself to facts and their connection.

But here a third principle makes its appearance. By the
side of order and progress we have love; nay, love is made
supreme over the other two, since, according to Comte, it
is the ruling motive of all social forces directed towards
order and progress. Lantour pour principe, Vordre pour
base^ et le progrh pour but!^ While this formula, in which
he sums up the fundamental ideas of his theory, be-
longs to a later, and, in many respects, altered form of the
doctrine, it may yet be regarded as a suitable expression
even of the earlier stages of Positivism, since it distinctly
indicates the place which is* assigned from the outset to
the sympathetic feelings. Here Comte shows an affinity
for the partisans of the emotional ethics. Instead of
sympathy, however, he substitutes 'altruism.* The word,
since adopted into the vocabulary of ethics, is his own
invention. Now sympathy is the narrower, altruism the
broader concept, including not only every sort of fellow-
feeling, but also active devotion to the service of others.
Accordingly, the essential problem of moral development
consists for Comte in the gradual control of egoism,
originally the more powerful impulse, by altruism. But
a victory over egoistic instincts would be impossible if
society consisted merely of individuals. In that case not
only would a strife of all against all be the natural condition
of affairs, but it would be impossible to see how man could
ever get out of such a condition. Even in a state of nature,
however, man lives in couples. Not the individual, then,
but the family is the social unit Here the instinct of
sympathy is first satisfied and intensified, and thus the

> CaUchismi PüsitivisU, p. 57.

150 Modem Ethics [396-7

family forms the first stage of social life, whose further
development is motived by the necessity of co-operation
and by the gradual division of labour. Similarity of
occupation at first strengthens the social feelings, but in
so doing leads to a division between men of different
callings : which division it is the task of government,
watching over the common interests of society, to recon-
cile. The more, therefore, that sympathy with the govern-
ment increases, the more the social feelings grow and
broaden. Thus, finally, the complete suppression of egoism,
the 'life for others,' is regarded as the supreme duty of
humanity.^

At the same time, it is these thoughts which give rise
to the later transformations in Comte's views. Little by
little his glorification of abstract mathematical method and
of the practical intelligence of the industrial spirit is supple-
mented by a kind of mystical religious enthusiasm, and
thus lave comes to play a far higher role than the one
assigned to it in the original altruistic theory, — that of a
moral motive ; it becomes the essential contents of a religion
of humanity, whose god is humanity, and whose cult con-
sists in actions which are a symbolic manifestation of
universal love for man. The picture which Comte draws
of man's future, on the basis of these ideas, is that of a
Utopia bearing a strong resemblance to the Platonic
Republic in the position which it assigns to the priesthood,
who are to have super\'ision over all the relations of life ;
but little scope being left for individual freedom in the
society of the future. On the other hand, the anthropo-
logical interpretation which this religion of the future gives
to all previous religious conceptions, especially Christian
dogmas, remind one of Feuerbach^ like the importance which
Positivism even in its first period ascribed to the family as a

* Pkihi, Pfs., vol !▼., lesson 50.

397-8] Moderpi Realistic Ethics 151

factor in moral life. But while Feuerbach set out with
religio- philosophical ideas, which he later completely re-
solved into practical love for mankind, Comte passed from a
half-historical, half-utilitarian theory of society to a wholly
serious religion of humanity, which he sought to adorn with
ceremonial forms partly invented by himself, and partly
borrowed from the Catholic Church.^

Comte's most important disciples did not adhere to his
later views. They held by the earlier form of the positivistic
system, and regarded the construction of the * positive
religion' as an aberration on the philosopher's part The
close resemblance, however, between the original system and
the views of social utilitarianism, as regards their definition
of the moral end, suggested the thought of supplementing
Bentham by Comte at this point, of adding to the former's
idea of the end the latter's theory of development and his
profounder psychological analysis of motives, whose dis-
figurement by an absurd use of phrenology was only
external. The chief representative of this intermediate
position between English Utilitarianism and French Posi-
tivism is John Stuart Mill^ who termed himself a disciple
of Comte and of Bentham.

Mill's system is an improvement on the utilitarianism of
his predecessors, chiefly as regards tivo points. First, he em-
phasises more forcibly than Bentham does the different values
of different kinds of pleasure, and the greatly superior ethical
value of intellectual enjoyments. Similarly, he avoids Ben-
tham's over-estimation of external possessions, and abandons

^ SysUm€ di PfHtiqus JMfitßit t hr. The auloQr between FeoerUch and
Comte, as regards the first period of PositiTism, has been already pointed oat by
Fr. Jodl {Giuhickti d, Ethik in d, neurtn PhUotopkie^ U., pp. 270 £). I cannot
agree with the view maintained in thb work, which otherwise contains much
that it excellent, to the efiect that Feuerbach, Comte and John Stuart MiU are
to be regarded as representing three parallel stages of ethical development in
Germany, France and England.

152 Modern Ethics [398-9

those arguments of Bentham's which are based on the
equality of all pleasures. As a natural consequence, his
ethics meets a new difficulty. That is, the question arises
as to what shall mark the distinction between the ethically
higher and ethically lower pleasures. Mill can think of no
other answer than an appeal to the majority. Of two goods,
that one which the majority of men strive after is in reality
preferable. Thus * public opinion,' first introduced by Locke
as one of the sanctions of the moral law, is regarded by Mill
as its determining factor.

The second point in which Mill has effected an improve-
ment on Bentham's theory concerns the relation between the
moral motive and the moral end. His estimate of the
relative value of different goods assumes rational insight to
be indispensable for the determination of the end, although,
in opposition to the intuitive systems, he emphasises the fact
that every form of pleasure, including sensuous pleasure,
has a relative justification ; and hence regards no happiness
as complete that is disturbed by any admixture of pain.
In treating of the moral motive, on the other hand, he seeks
to do justice to the importance of the feeling element by
assuming, with Comte, social feelings that instinctively impel
us to do right without requiring deliberation concerning the
causes and effects of our action in every case. For Mill, how-
ever, feeling not only anticipates the result of deliberation,
but itself springs from previous deliberation, either on our
own part, or on that of others whose influence reaches us
through example and precept Hence, we need not always
have a clear perception of what is useful in order to do
it; although our action will naturally be more perfect if it
proceeds from insight as well as instinct Thus Mill tries
to show that all other moral systems — ^intuitive and theolo-
gical — are unconsciously based on the principle of utility,
since all practical morality necessarily reduces itself in the

399-400] Modern Realistic Ethics 153

last instance to this principle, whether it has been admitted
as a motive or not

The supposition that we may act under the influence of
motives without being conscious of them obviously meets
with considerable difficulty, so long as one assumes with Mill
that in each individual consciousness the process by which
motives become organised and transformed into instincts
must take place anew. The difficulty is greatly lessened,
on the other hand, if we suppose a coherence of individuals
by virtue of which the acquisitions of earlier generations may
be transmitted, at least in germ, to their successors. Thus
utilitarianism leads to evolutionism^ to a subjective evolu-
tionism in fact, since moral development is thus r^^arded
as fulfilling itself within the individual consciousness. We
have here the counterpart of the objective evolutionism of
Hegel and Comte, for which the development of morality
coincided with intellectual development in general.

{d) Utilitarian Ethics as Influenced by the TJieory of
Evolution.

The influence of Darwiris theory of descent, while it
aflected scientific opinion far beyond the sphere of the
natural sciences, was especially immediate in the field of
ethics, for there it was supported by the long familiar facts of
moral development At the same time, of course, Darwin
himself was influenced by contemporary utilitarianism. But
the gist of his theory of evolution lies in the doctrine that
qualities accidentally arising in the struggle for existence,
which are useful to the species affected, are preserved and
strengthened. Among the qualities thus developed by
natural selection are the social instincts y Now man is
undoubtedly a social animal, distinguished from the lower
animals only by his capacity for reflection. Even his simian
* Darwin, Dtsani pf Man, vol. L, chap. iv.

154 Modem Ethics [400-1

ancestors, apparentiy, possessed the same instincts. But by
the general laws of heredity the more stable instincts must
gradually overcome the less stable; and those instincts which
are useful to the species are more stable than those which
serve merely for self-preservation. Hence we have in all
gregarious animals the disposition to morality. A social
animal, however, becomes transformed into a fttoral animal
when he is able to compare his past and future actions or
motives, and thus to approve or disapprove. Morality is,
in a single word, the social instinct controlled by intelli-
gence. The contents of all moral laws, therefore, is
determined by the needs of the species ; and the * general
welfare ' is nothing else but the sum of the means "" where-
by the greatest possible number of individuals may exist
in full vigour and health." If human beings were reared
under precisely the same conditions as bees, there could
scarcely be a doubt "that our unmarried females would,
like the worker bees, think it a sacred duty to kill their
brothers, and mothers would strive to kill their fertile
daughters."* It would, of course, be unfair to judge the
ethical significance of Darwin's views by such statements as
these, which proceed rather from the undue stress laid upon
the utility of development than from the principle of develop-
ment itself. The validity of this principle for the human
race, and the possibility of its ethical application, in the form
advanced by Darwin of a gradual perfecting of individual
and species in the struggle for existence, cannot be gainsaid
Herbert Spencer has sought to apply this form of evolu-
tionism to moral philosophy yet more thoroughly than
Darwin, and to a large extent independently of him.
Spencer had already conceived and expressed the thought
of the development theory before Darwin's pioneer works
appeared. The latter, however, were not without influence
> op, eä.t ToL L9 pp. 185, 152.

4oi] Modem Realistic Ethics 155

on the working out of his theory. This is especially the
case with his ethics, the part of his system which Spencer
treated of last^

Spencer's ethical views are governed by the concepts of
adaptation and heredity. In accordance with the principle
of adaptation, he too r^ards the moral as identical with the
useful, and the latter as identical with that which is adapted
to existing conditions of human life. Since these conditions
are variable, moral ideas are in a state of continual flux ; and
there is no such thing as absolute moral laws^ valid for all
times, though it is not denied that certain actions have
always been considered harmful and certain others bene-
ficial ; just as the physical organism in all stages of its
development maintains a constant relation to certain general
conditions of existence. Spencer, like Darwin before him,
makes a great point of the relativity of moral ideas, and
therefore recognises no specific difference between morality
and other forms of utility. He grants, it is true, that in
general the more useful and hence the more moral course
is to subordinate the pleasures of the moment, even when
they seem greater, to those which come later but are more
lasting. But he expressly states that this holds good only
for the present condition of the human race, and that
even here there are exceptions.

While the opinions which he bases on the idea of useful
adaptation for the most part follow the track of the older
utilitarianism, a new element is added in the arguments
to which he is led through the principle of heredity, and
in which at the same time he completes the rather indefinite
suggestions of Darwin. One of the chief difficulties
encountered by Bentham's utilitarianism was to explain
how, under the guidance of original pleasure and pain,
impulses in themselves ^oistic, the common welfare could

* Tlu Data 0/ Ethics. London, 1879.

156 Modem Ethics [401-2

become a motive of action. Spencer solves this difficulty
by transferring it from individual to racial development,
where, of course, since an innumerable series of generations
is available, it becomes distinctly less. According to
Spencer, certain fundamental moral feelings and intuitions
have been developed in the human race, and are in the
act of further development They are the result of experi-
ences of utility, which in the course of evolution have been
accumulated, organised, and, through their incorporation into
the nervous system, inherited together with its tendencies.
Moral tendencies are thus transmitted as physical dis-
positions, but they become actualised under the form of
moral ideas in us. In this way Spencer revives on a
materialistic basis the old intellectualism maintained by
Cudworth and opposed by Lxxrke. Moral ideas, though
in a crude and indefinite form, are innate in us. But they
are not, as the Cartesians assumed, directly implanted by
God in our souls; they have been developed by the
experience of our ancestors and transmitted to us in the
disposition of our nervous system. Besides the hypothesis,
shared by other physiologists and psychologists, that the
nerve-cells of the brain are the permanent representatives
of ideas, Spencer's theory involves the further assumption
of a transmission of the cells, together with the ideas to
which they belong, from one generation to the next

These views of Spencer's concerning the basis of indi-
vidual moral development are supplemented by the theory
of social forms presented in his Sociology} As the develop-
ment of the individual refers back to that of the race, so
the organisation of society must be thought of as anal<^ous
to the individual organism. Especially in its formation and
in the growth of the social structures which compose it, do
we find an integration of ultimate organic units, like that

* PrindpUi of Sociology, Cf. esp. toL iL, chaps. L-xiL, and voL iii., chap. six.

402-3] Modern Realistic Ethics 157

upon which the growth of the single organism is based.
Moreover, the opposing forces of disintegration, by which
existing combinations tend to fall apart again, play an
important r61e here. The divisions of political authority,
legislative, executive and judicial, as well as the distinctions
of class and guild, are regarded by Spencer as examples
of this differentiation. But its chief determining influence
seems to him to be the distinction between the two stages
of historical development, warlike and industrial, which will
probably coexist for some time to come ; though ultimately,
as Spencer, like Comte, believes, the industrial spirit will be
supreme. While the military stage of civilisation demands
enforced co-operation of the parts of the whole, and thus
a firmer and simpler union, the government of the industrial
system will be the result of the voluntary co-operation of
individuals. Since the government cannot be administered by
all, representatives freely elected even to the highest govern-
ment positions are to be entrusted with the carrying on of
public affairs. Thus, on the basis of an organic theory of the
State, and in opposition to the conclusions which he else-
where deduces from this very theory, Spencer's philosophy of
history leads him to a strongly individualistic conception
of the future structure of society. This explains why on
certain practical questions Spencer assumes a position
corresponding to that of the egoistic utilitarianism of
eighteenth century politics« It seems to him frankly absurd
to abandon the simple principle "that every man ought to
follow the aim of his life independently, and should be
restricted only by the limitations imposed by the equal right
of his fellow-men."^

Besides this special outgrowth of the theory of evolution
it has found other ethical applications, which have aimed

• Fram Freedom to Bomdage. Esnys, voL iil, p. 445. Juitict^ port iv. of
Uitf PnncipUs of Ethics, London, 1891.

158 Modem Ethics [403-4

to avoid the auxiliary physiological hypotheses introduced
by Spencer. Thus Leslie Stephen^ seeks to abandon all
hypotheses, and to investigate only the moral facts them-
selves. Since these, however, show that the conception
of morality is fluctuating and dependent on historical and
social conditions, there is a sufficient warrant for the evo-
lutionary standpoint Mr. Stephen rejects the customary
utilitarianism of the evolutionary ethics, because the concept
of utility is ambiguous and varies with the state of society ;
and because the formula, "greatest happiness of the greatest
number," resolves society into an atomistic multitude of
similar individuals, instead of conceiving it as an oiganic
whole. Moreover, utility is not ordinarily the immediate
end of moral action, though it may be its final result
The origin of morality lies rather in the feelings, especially
in sympathy^ that ultimate source of our altruistic inclnia-
tions, which is based on the fact that we put ourselves in
another's place. Since through sympathy we become capable
of acting for others, we share in the organisation of society,
which in its turn reacts upon the individual and thus
gradually forms the moral law out of those modes of
conduct which further the welfare of society in its existing
state. Morality is to society what health is to the body;
and since the social organism is continually developing,
we cannot speak of a morality that is constant under all
conditions any more than of an invariable diet for all ages
and constitutions.

There is no mistaking the fact that these views approach
more closely to objective evolutionism and Comte's theory
of society than to Herbert Spencer's strongly individualistic
ethics. In many ways the English moral philosophy of
to-day betrays an effort to reconcile the utilitarianism of
Bentham and Mill, not only with the principles of evolution,

^ Leslie Stephen, TIu Sdemeg 0/ Eikku London, 1882.

404-5] Modem Realistic Ethics 159

but also with earlier tendencies, especially those of emotional
and intuitional ethics.^

A description of the ethical currents and tendencies in the
present time, at which we have now arrived, would fall
outside the scope of this account of the historical develop-
ment of ethical philosophy. If the signs of the times do
not deceive us, our age bears here as in other respects the
marks of an epoch of transition, in which the variously
developed tendencies of the past are still influential and
are gradually assuming new forms, destined later to give
complete expression to the intellectual life of the present
In contemporary ethics the social utilitarianism of Bentham
and Mill, more or less flavoured by the evolutionary doctrine
of Darwin and Spencer, is the predominant tendency. That
it will be permanent, or that, as many of its adherents seem
to think, it is the last word of our consciousness concerning
the value and meaning of life, I refuse to believe. It will
be the task of the following examination to justify this
opposition to a prevailing philosophical tendency. To
facilitate the task, however, it seems desirable to subject
the ethical views, whose historical development we have
just considered, to a critical investigation with reference to
their systematic coherence and their ultimate validity.

> CC especbdly H. Sxdgwick, TIu Makods ^ Ethics^ 3rd ed., London, 18S4.

[405-6

CHAPTER IV.

GENERAL CRITICISM OF ETHICAL SYSTEMS.

I. CLASSIFICATION OF ETHICAL SYSTEMS.
(a) General Standpoints for such a Classification.

THERE are two possible principles upon which a general
classification of systems of moral philosophy may be
made. Ethical systems may be distinguished ( i ) as regards the
fnotives which they assume for moral action, and (2) as regards
the ends which they set before it The two divisions cross,
since, generally speaking, every system contains both a
theory of the end and a theory of the motive. It not in-
frequently happens, however, that these theories coincide, for
many moralists regard the end and the motive as one and the
same. Moreover, there are many systems under each head
which are eclectic in character, and recognise several diflerent
motives and ends as equally valid. It is noteworthy, how-
ever, that manifold as are the systems which have been
developed in the course of the history of ethics, it is
impossible to base any classification upon the concept of
law, though one might have supposed it well fitted for such a
purpose. Not that certain characteristic differences in the
formulation of moral laws are lacking. But these differences
are in general quite unessential, and closer examination shows
the material contents of most so-called moral laws to be
practically identical. Where there are differences, they are
such as show themselves far more distinctly in the motives.

4o6-7] Classification of Ethical Systems i6i

and especially in the ends assumed. This fact suggests the
consoling thought that the division of opinion is theoretical
and not practical. As a rule, men agree on the question
as to what is moral ; opinions are divided only as to why it
is so.

Of the two classifications just mentioned, the more important
is the one based on ends ; for it is more important, practically
speaking at least, to know what the consequences of our
actions are to be than what motive impels us to them.
Hence the former question has been the most frequent
subject of dispute, and in many cases the only one, since
almost all the ancient philosophers and many, at least, of the
modems have regarded motive and end as identical, the
motive being nothing but the end anticipated in idea. In-
vestigation of moral facts has shown us that this opinion is
in general erroneous. The end itiay coincide with the motive,
but does not necessarily do so ; hence in classifying ethical
systems we should keep the two principles of division distinct
Since, however, the classification according to ends is the
more important, and since one's theory of the end usually
determines one's theory of the motive, we shall base the
following critique of systems of morals on the ends which
they assume, and use their theories of the moral motive as a
principle of subdivision.

{b) Classification according to Motives.

Here we have to distinguish three fundamental forms only :
the ethics of feeling, the ethics of understanding and the
ethics of reason. The ethics of feeling derives morality from
feelings and emotions; that of the understanding from
reflection ; that of the reason either from rational insight
which passes the limits of reflection, but remains a product
of experience, or from rational intuition prior to all ex-
perience. The ethics of feeling is always based on the

II. M

102 General Criticism of Ethical Sysietns [407-8

assumption of original dispositions which admit of no
further explanation ; the ethics of the understanding
regards the power of reflection as a faculty awakened and
developed by experience ; the ethics of reason, finally, sees
in reason an innate power whose ethical function rests either
on an empirically developed insight into the most general
ends of human action or on innate ideas. Hence, if we
classify all systems according as they hold moral motives to
be innate or developed by experience, we shall get the follow-
ing schema: —

Ethical Intuitionism. Ethical Empiricism.

/ — ' s . • .

Ethics of Feeling. Ethics of the Reason. Ethics of the Understanding.

The ethics of feeling falls under Intuitionism, that of the
understanding under Empiricism, while the ethics of reason
lies between the two. Its intuitional systems have most
afHnity with the ethics of feeling, its empirical systems with
the ethics of the understanding ; for no sharp line can be
drawn between innate moral ideas and innate feelings and
impulses, while the empiricism of the ethics of reason is
distinguished from that of the ethics of the understanding
chiefly in the fact that the former realises qualitative
differences in human and animal springs of action, where the
latter sees only quantitative differences. The ethics of the
understanding r^^ards man with his moral impulses as
belonging wholly to the sense world For the ethics of
reason, he is at the same time citizen of a supersensuous
world, especially as r^;ards the moral end which his insight
discovers in his own being. Hence it is only for the ethics
of reason that morality is spedficaUy human. The ethics of
feeling finds the beginnings of ethics in the souls of lower
animals« and the ethics of the understanding finds at least
löcAgerm of morality there.

In spite of the differences between these three ethical

408-9] Classification of Ethical Systems 163

standpoints, they all recognise the same actions, with very few
exceptions, as moral. But each has a different standard for
the worth of actions : a man who saves the life of his fellow
acts morally according to the ethics of feelings because he
exercises sympathy ; according to the ethics of the under-
standings either because he follows the correct principle that
only by so doing can he himself claim aid in a similar
emergency, or because he says to himself that the civil law
or the religious law demands such conduct, and must be
obeyed for the sake of universal or individual welfare. The
ethics of recLson either maintains that furthering the welfare
of others as of oneself is a duty which follows from the
concept of man as a rational being; or it believes in an
immediate, internal voice of duty, requiring a man to
endanger his own safety for that of others.

(^) Classification according to Ends.

There are two views possible regarding the ends of moral
action. They may be considered as having their source not
in man's own nature, but in an external command ; or they
may be r^[arded as peculiar to man himself, and arising
from original dispositions and the natural conditions of
development Ethical systems of the first class may be
called authoritative or heteronomous \ those of the second
class autonomous. Since the distinction between the two
concerns, not the contents of the moral end, but only the way
in which it is given, the authoritative systems, when they give
any account of contents at all, usually agree with some one
or other of the autonomous systems on this point But
they frequently avoid stating the contents of the moral end,
appealing simply to the principle of obedience which they
make so important The moral law must be followed
because it is given by a higher authority, and without any
question as to its end. Only in the case of autonomous

164 General Criticism of Ethical Systems [409

theories, therefore, can we get a systematic classification of
theories according to their view of the contents of the moral
end. Here we may distinguish two principal classes. The
first regards moral action as directed towards goods which
can be directly realised, /.^., such as can be attained by the
agent himself, his fellow-men, or both. The other sees in
moral action an integral part of a vwral development. The
real, or at least the ultimate end of every moral act, is not its
immediate effect, but the final goal of this development
Since the directly realisable goods constitute what we call
means to happiness [Glücksgüter], using the expression to
include a wide and varied connotation — and since the
object of these goods is to produce pleasure^ the concept of
pleasure including every possible form of agreeable feeling,
purely intellectual as well as physical, we may call the
systems of the first class eudcemonistic, and those of the
second evolutionary,

Elach of these classes may be again divided into an
individual and a universal tendency. Individual eudce-
monism, or egoism, regards individual happiness as the
end of action. Universal eudamonism or utilitarianism
finds the end in the welfare of all. Individual evolutionism
holds that the ultimate purpose of morality lies in perfection
of tJie individual; universcU evolutionism makes it consist
in the spiritual developitient of mankind^ as empirically
represented by its historical progress. We thus obtain the
following classification : —

I. Autlioritative Ethical Systems.

These may be subdivided into politically and religiously
heteronomous systems. They either avoid taking any account
of ends, or affiliate with some one of the autonomous systems
as regards the question of ends.

4io] Authoritative Ethical Systems 165

II. Autonomous Ethical Systevis.

(1) EudcBinonism, under the form of

{a) Individual Eudaemonism or Egoism ;

{b) Universal Eudaemonism or Utilitarianism.

(2) Evolutionism, under the form of

(a) Individual Evolutionism ;
(jb) Universal Evolutionism.^

2. AUTHORITATIVE ETHICAL SYSTEMS.

The error of these systems is that they reverse the true
causal relation in ethics. The products of the moral con-
sciousness are made its causes. This error is most apparent
in ÜiQ political form of heteronomy. In view of the historical
conditions under which political institutions have developed,
there can be no doubt that civic legislation, particularly as it
bears on the citizen's conduct of life, is itself under the
influence of the moral consciousness. In the case of religious
heteronomy the reversal is perhaps not so apparent, because
the origin of religious ideas goes back to a time much
earlier than that of developed political legislation. Then,
too, moral ideas have been as a matter of fact so interwoven
with religious ideas from the very outset, that we cannot
hope to establish the priority of either. But just because
the race -consciousness reflects its moral life in its mytho-
logical ideas, the gods themselves are made the originators of
the moral law, — a thought which becomes still more firmly
rooted through the development of the idea of retribution.

* The only classification I know of which partially agrees with this is that of
Sidgwick (Afakods tf Etkiis^ Introd. { 4). He dbtinguishes five systems:
individual and universal Evotutionism, individual and universal Hedonism, and In-
tuitionbm. He thus takes no account of heteronomous systems ; while Intuitionism
Is based on a principle of division heterogeneous to that of the other systems.

1 66 General Criticism of Ethical Systems [410-11

When the conception, existing in the universal conscious-
ness, of the relation between morality and religion passed
over into science, the latter naturally speculated concerning
the ground of the divine commands. There arose succes-
sively three theories, which illustrate the gradual transition
from heteronomous to autonomous morals. According to
the^rj/, the moral law is moral only because it is a religious
law. The will of God alone determines what is and what
is not moral. If God had commanded otherwise, our
notions of good and bad would be other than they are.
This view, which was developed in scholastic nominalism
and theological utilitarianism, deprives morality of all in-
dependent value by completely denying its autonomy. The
second theory attempts to remedy this, by regarding the
moral law as on the one hand of human origin, a principle
of action developed by deliberation or rational insight, and
as on the other hand a religious command imparted through
revelation. The views of Locke, Leibniz, and of the
theological rationalism of the last century, which followed
in their footsteps, come under this head. Autonomy and
heteronomy are co-ordinated, either one being placed in the
foreground according to inclination; while the autonomous
origin of the moral law is conceived in accordance now with
the ethics of the understanding, now with that of the reason.
When the latter is chosen, a way is opened for the recon-
ciliation of these two laws, alike in their content though
differing in their origin. This way is followed by the third
and intermediary theory. The moral law, like the human
reason itself, is of divine origin. It therefore does not need
to be communicated from without; it may be directly
created by reason, for it belongs to the class of innate truths
upon which all rational knowledge is based. Such is in
general the view of metaphysical ethics and of the English
mtellectualism influenced thereby. The theory underwent

411-12] Authoritative Ethical Systems 167

a gradual transition to complete autonomy. While the
older intellectualism regarded reason as merely the organ of
divine revelation, Kant, who may be considered as the last
adherent of the theory in question, shows a strong leaning
towards autonomy: the inner law is the original one, and
religion itself becomes "the recognition of all our duties
as divine commands." This attacks the very principle of
heteronomy: morality now imposes its laws on religfious
ideas. The way is now clear for a recognition of the true
causal relation between the two.

Although by thus acknowledging the moral origin of
political and religious laws as their only permanent sanction,
the foundation of all the heteronomous systems has been
destroyed, yet these systems must be allowed a certain
practical value. They are useful because of the stress they
lay on unconditional authority. The best way of insuring
such authority to moral laws is to derive them from some
external power with means of coercion, a power which
decrees punishments either in this world or the next.
Hence, even the political heteronomy of Hobbes has always
retained a few adherents up to the most recent times, if only
because it was supposed to furnish the sole empirical expla-
nation for the authoritative character and the variable
content of the moral law.^ While there is no doubt that
these systems exaggerate the variability ^of moral require-
ments, and explain their authority only by deriving them
from an authority itself left unexplained, yet they certainly
express a fact which is important for the development
of morals. Political and religious law, while themselves the
products of moral ideas, are in the earlier stages of society
indispensable means of moral education, and perhaps within
certain limits they will remain such. If man's moral intui-

> Cf. i,g,t VON Kirchmann, Du Crunabtgriffe ties Rechis und der Moral,

1 68 General Criticism of Ethical Systems [412-13

tions are to have any binding force upon him, he must have
them objectified and invested with a certain amount of
power. Many people would develop only the merest rudi-
ments of these intuitions if they did not possess the moral
I^facy of previous generations in the practical form of
custom, law and religious life. Science, however, cannot
sanction this inversion of ethical causality, whatever its
practical importance. The proof that custom, law, and
religion are but objectified morality obliges us to seek
the origin of the latter in the human consciousness, and
thus to postulate the autonomy of morals.

3. EUDiEMONISTIC SYSTEMS.

Individual Eudamonism or Egoism alone has never,
properly speaking, constituted a moral system. Where
self-love is made the exclusive motive and sole end of
human action, as with the Sophists in antiquity and Mande-
ville in modem English ethics, the intention is to call in
question the very existence of moral laws. Even the
Epicurean ethics recognised the necessity of the civil order,
and thus of a r^ard for others ; it was utilitarianism with
a strong tinge of egoism. Universal Eudamonism or
Utilitarianism, on the other hand, is one of the most widely
disseminated of ethical theories. According to the indi-
vidual ends which it assumes for those actions which serve
the common welfare, it falls into two divisions, egoistic and
altruistic utilitarianism.

{a) Egoistic Utilitarianism.

As far back as the theory of Hobbes we find utilitarianism
with ^oistic motives playing an important role, side by side
with his authoritative derivation of the moral law. Since
Locke's time it has been the prevailing view in English
ethics ; a view from which even Hume, Bentham and Mill

413-14] EudcBntonistü Systems 169

did not succeed in completely freeing themselves. It may
be subdivided into two forms, according to the psychological
motives assumed ; an ethics of reflection^ and an ethics of
association and feeling.

The egoistic-utilitarian ethics of reflection, represented by
Hobbes and Locke, in part also by Bentham and Mill,
supposes that altruistic action results from selfish considera-
tions. But, in the first place, it is inconceivable that man
should recognise the utility of altruistic action before he has
ever performed such actions, and that he should ever perform
them without having previously recognised their utility, if
his nature is originally egoistic. Moreover, the law that
actions for the common good tend at the same time to the
good of the individual holds true only in a limited number
of cases. The man who saves another at the sacrifice of his
own life, the soldier who stands at his post when his faithful-
ness means certain death, these may, in some instances, be
incited by the selfish desire for fame and honour. But in
many other instances this motive cannot possibly have played
any part worth mentioning, because the conditions of the
act are such that honour and fame are not to be had from
it, or because for other special reasons there would be no
psychological probability in the assumption of self-seeking
motives. In order to do justice to the facts, egoistic utilitari-
anism must grant that altruistic motives, if originally non-
existent, may yet be developed. For such a development,
it becomes necessary to assume certain conditions, con-
sisting partly in processes of association and partly in
feelings ; and thus to pass from the ethics of reflection to
the next form.

The egoistic utilitarianism of association and feeling was
founded by Hartley, and Hume, in his explanation of
objective sympathy, followed Hartley's lead. He was un-
able, however, to account on this basis for one of the most

170 General Criticism of Ethical Systems [414-15

important of moral attributes, justice, and was thus forced to
fall back on the ethics of reflection. Adam Smith was the
first to avoid this inconsistency, and did so by adding
subjective to objective sympathy. This was practically
abandoning all attempt to explain morality by self-love,
for subjective sympathy presupposes the ultimate character
of altruistic feelings. As a matter of fact, however, even
in the case of objective sympathy the derivation of altruistic
feeling from association is only apparent. Nothing but the
introduction of logical reflection can render possible an
associational explanation of how unselfish actions come to be
preferred before selfish actions. By means of association we
must gradually free our moral judgment from the influence
of the proximity or remoteness of actions, for otherwise, as
Hume says, " there must inevitably occur contradictions in
our moral ideas." But since the motive of this process of
elimination is purely logical, association really plays only
a subordinate part The immediate influence of every effort
to free moral ideas from contradiction can be exerted only on
our moral judpnenU Its influence on our moral feelings and
acts must be secondary and by way of reaction, through our
endeavour to harmonise feeling and action with our moral
judgment And so we are brought back to the standpoint of
reflection : it is not moral feeling, but moral judgment
influenced by certain logical considerations that is the
ultimate factor. The difference between this theory and the
ordinary egoistic ethics of the understanding is hardly to the
advantage of the former. In estimating personal interest,
the latter takes account of motives which actually do exert
a strong influence on our impulses and acts. But whether
the desire to free ethical ideas from contradictions is in itself
a sufficiently strong motive to incite men to good and deter
them from evil, seems very doubtful. Probably the social
consequences of an action contrary to general moral judg-

415-16] EucUBmonistü Systems 171

ment, its breach of respectability, the disadvantages of private
vengeance or legal penalty, would be taken into consideration,
and we should have simply the ethics of reflection in its
ordinary form. There is no way of avoiding the difficulty
except by recognising the ultimate character of the social
and benevolent instincts. This would mean abandoning the
false inversion of the relation between moral feeling and
moral judgment, and basing the latter on the former, after
the manner of Shaftesbury, who was the first to conceive the
problem of moral philosophy under this aspect Thus the
transition from ^oistic to altruistic utilitarianism is completed.

ip) Altruistic Utilitarianism.

This form of utilitarianism is decidedly superior to the
egoistic form, and has gradually superseded it, so that
the utilitarianism of to-day may be called an altruism
preserving only a few traces of the ^foistic reflection-ethics.
Since we apply the term utilitarianism in general to all
systems which r^ard the common welfare as the end, the
altruistic principle has the primary advantage of aiming
directly at this end. While ^oistic utilitarianism is obliged
to make an artificial derivation of the social from the egoistic
instincts, with the aid of forced reflections and associations
whose existence is highly questionable ; altruistic utili-
tarianism, on the other hand, argues from the existence of
benevolent actions to the existence of benevolent instincts,
which it r^ards as ultimate, for the reason that no state
of human life can be proved to be wholly devoid of them.
Of course, even altruism is compelled to allow the egoistic
impulses a certain influence upon human sentiments and
actions ; but the point in question is as to how far these
^oistic impulses are morally justifiable. Thus it happens
that the divisions of opinion within the sphere of altruistic
utilitarianism are of quite a different order from those which

172 General Criticism of Ethical Systems [416-17

occur in egoistic utilitarianism. All the altruists agree that
feeling is the original spring of moral action, although
judgment and insight not infrequently exert an additional
influence on the development of moral consciousness and
so on the moral feelings themselves. There is no distinction
between feeling-ethics and the ethics of reflection here:
altruism always belongs to the ethics of feeling. On the
other hand, the question as to the worth or worthlessness of
the egoistic instincts divides the altruistic school into two
classes, which we may designate as extreme and moderate
altruism.

Extreme altruistic utilitarianism^ as represented in England
by Hutcheson and in Germany, after a fashion, by Schopen-
hauer, recognises one moral emotion only, — ^benevolence or
sympathy with one's fellow-creatures; ^oism, whenever it
conflicts with sympathy, is always in the wrong. Unselfish
action alone is virtuous. Of course the moralists of this
school would not unconditionally condemn as immoral all
care for self or even all striving for one's own happiness.
These, however, are in themselves morally worthless. Ac-
cording to Hutcheson, they have moral value only as they
aid us in exercising the virtues of benevolence. Schopenhauer
goes still further, and denies that there can be such a thing
as a duty to oneself. " Compulsory duties towards self are
impossible, on account of the self-evident law volenti non fit
injuria: as for self-directed duties of inclination, ethics finds
her work in this field ready performed ; she comes too late."^
This latter argument is eflective only from the standpoint
of a lower hedonism. The commonplace observation that
we need no moral precepts to urge us to care for our own
welfare has a certain justice so long as we understand by
welfare merely care for the necessities of life. But when
German rationalism from Leibniz to Kant includes all the

^ DU beiden CrundprobUme der Ethik. WorkS| vol ir., p. 126.

417-18] EudcBinonistic Syslons 173

higher duties to self under the term 'self-perfection/ and when
not only Fichte and Schleiermacher, but even Bentham and
Mill ascribe the highest importance to the cultivation of tlie
individual personality, in part because those characteristics
which are useful to others and to society are strengthened
thereby, no one can possibly suppose that this development
of character is a process which takes place without effort
Rather it is one of the most difficult of moral duties, far
more often n^lected than the direct exercise of sympathy
and benevolence.

It follows from all this that extreme altruism cannot
furnish us with a tenable moral principle ; instead, it makes
use of a single ethical motive^ which, to have any real value,
must always presuppose other motives. The emphasis laid
on the common welfare, peculiar to other forms of utili-
tarianism, is wholly lacking here. This altruistic conception
of duty is as much limited to the individual as that of
ordinary ^oism; and while one might suppose the two
theories to be diametrically opposed, in reality pure altruism
has more affinity with egoism than with any other system.
For at bottom it is only transferring selfishness from oneself
to others, and its chief reason for rejecting duties toward
self lies in an overestimation of the force of egoistic motives.
Hence the theory is usually the product of a pessimistic
conception of human nature.

The more moderate altruism maintained by Hutcheson,
which tolerates duties towards self as means to the develop-
ment of the virtue of benevolence, is not open to these
objections. Moreover, it adheres to the principle of utili-
tarianism by virtue of its more universal tendency. In
exercising benevolence towards all our fellow-men we are
to increase the general happiness as much as possible. Thus,
in accordance with the fundamental principle of utilitarian-
ism, the general happiness is conceived as the sum of

1 74 General Criticism of Ethical Systems [418-19

individual happinesses. It follows that the end of moral
action is to make as many individuals happy as possible. But
why should the happiness of the agent be excluded from
this sum? Especially if, like Hutcheson and all the pro-
founder utilitarian thinkers, we understand by happiness not
merely external and material goods, but spiritual happiness
as well, it is difficult to understand why pursuit of the moral
end ceases to be moral as soon as it aims at the happiness of
that individual whose happiness is certainly most in its power,
namely, the agent himself. Either the principle of utili-
tarianism, that the general welfare consists in the welfare
of individuals, is false, or else the welfare of the agent must
be represented in the sum. It is to arguments of this sort
that extreme altruism is gradually forced to }aeld.

Thus the more moderate altruistic utilitarianism has
become the prevailing tendency in the ethics of to-day. It
r^ards the essence of morality as consisting neither in
wholly benevolent nor in wholly selfish instincts, but in a
harmonious balance of the twa This theory is foreshadowed
as far back as the Aristotelian theory of virtue. When virtue
is r^arded as the just medium between opposite qualities, it
happens in many instances that one of these qualities is
altruistic, the other egoistic in character. Shaftesbury and
Hume gave more definite expression to the same thought
when they made morality consist in a just balancing of one's
own interest against that of others. The idea is not so promi-
nent in modem utilitarianism, which lays more stress on the
welfare of the whole ; but when this latter is regarded as the
welfare of all individuals, or in Bentham's phrase, as the
greatest good of the greatest number, it is obvious that
the self is included at least as a unit

The advantage of this tendency consists in the fact that it
seems to s^ee tolerably well with the practical ethics of
common sense, which, morally as well as intellectually.

419-20] Eudcemonistic Systems 175

demands a certain average mediocrity of character and action.
Now the instinct of common sense may generally be trusted
in questions of conduct under the ordinary conditions of life.
But so-called common sense is always a bad and unreliable
judge when confronted with extraordinary cases ; and in moral
life as in intellectual life such cases are the most important,
because they have far more influence upon moral develop-
ment than that average equilibrium of egoistic impulses
provided with a modicum of altruism, which suffices to main-
tain society in a tolerable state of morals. Further, so-called
common sense is alwa}^ a bad judge in theoretical cases.
Where would astronomy be if the Copemican system had
had to wait for the sanction of public opinion? Where
epistemology, if it had had to satisfy all the prejudices of
common sense? The problem of ethics does not cease to be
theoretical because it relates to the principles of practical life;
and the long conflict of opinion does not argue for its being
less difficult than other scientific problems. No one has ever
given a more impressive warning against those prejudices to
which the human mind is liable through confusing its own
nature with the nature of the things it considers than Bacon,
one of the greatest of utilitarians.^ It would be well if
utilitarianism applied to its own problems the principle which
he recommended ; the principle that on beginning a research
one should before all things divest oneself of the prejudices
connected with the subject

It is but a step further to an argument whose justice
is acknowledged by many who consider it unimportant
because it seems to relate less to the thing than to the name,
which they are willing to abandon. When we say that the
moral is the useful, we do not describe its essential nature.
Utility is a relative concept, and has no definite content until
we state for what a thing is useful. Hence when Mill, who is

1 76 Gene7'al Criticism of Ethical Systems [420-1

responsible for the term, designated Bentham's theory as
utilitarianism, he was right at least thus far, that in Bentham's
system /r^^r/;/ occupies the central position among all goods.
Property is the useful good par excellence^ because it has no
intrinsic value, but becomes valuable in proportion as it is
used to obtain intrinsic goods. But for Mill's own system
the term 'utilitarianism' was unsuitable, for he did not
ascribe so much importance to property, but regarded those
spiritual and sensuous satisfactions which increase our well-
being as the end of morality, and interpreted the principle of
the ' maximum of happiness ' in accordance with this view.
Here he is wholly in harmony with modem utilitarianism,
which holds that wealth is neither the only nor the infallible
means to the attainment of intrinsic goods. Thus the term
'utilitarianism' is hardly an appropriate substitute for the
older term eudcemonisvi. Utilitarianism differs from other
forms of the latter only in the principle of the ' maximum
of happiness ' ; it is a social^ not an egoistic eudaemonism.
Modern utilitarianism recognises this when it declares the
moral end to be, not public utility, but public welfare, defining
the latter, according to Bentham's principle, as the welfare of
the greatest number.

Here, too, we find the indefiniteness which is always involved
in the notion of eudxmonism. If everything that augments
human well-being is moral, then health, sensuous enjoyment,
the satisfaction of ambition and vanity must be included
among the goods for which it is moral to strive in behalf of
self and others. And most utilitarians are ready to acknow-
ledge them as such, though they ascribe a higher value to
intellectual satisfactions. Now let us put the question aside
as to whether and how far a scale of degrees is possible
among these different goods, and whether the decision of the
majority would really be, as Mill assumes, in favour of the
higher intellectual enjoyments. Let us suppose rather that

421-2] Eudamonistic Systems 177

not the majority, but the best and wisest men are to consider
the question. It is much to be feared that they would get
into difficulties in making moral judgments according to the
new standard. They would have to regard the inventions
of printing, the compass, the steam-engine, and antiseptic
dressings as moral actions ; while they might disagree when
it came to gunpowder and dynamite, or perhaps decide that
these inventions were partly moral and partly very immoral.
They would have to call a good many actions moral which
they formerly considered merely useful; and a good many
things immoral, or at least indifferent, which they formerly
r^;arded as highly moral The soldier in the battle-field
who stands by his post when it has been abandoned by
others, is of no use to others or to the cause he serves, and
since his death is inevitable the honour he hopes for can
never be his. Such an action diminishes happiness and
creates none: how can the utilitarian call it mora! and
glorious ? The father of a family, or a man whose public
importance is such that he could not easily be replaced, saves
a drowning child at the greatest risk of his own life. From
the standpoint of utility his action is immoral, for the
probability that it will detract from the common welfare is
far greater than the chance that it will increase the sum of
happiness.

Still, we must grant that these arguments are not con-
clusive. The utilitarian may answer: The fact that our
judgments concerning right and wrong have been defective
hitherto is no reason why we should not correct them by
our better knowledge. It used to be thought that the moral
often coincided with the useful, but not always; that the
useful was sometimes moral, though in many cases not But
if the world would be better for it, why not adopt the
principle that the useful is always moral and the moral
useful? Possibly, however, the utilitarian might not allow

II. M

178 General Criticism of Ethical Systems [422-3

the fact of a discrepancy between his principle and ordinary
moral judgment He might say that the question is not
whether a given action is more conducive than another to
the general welfare, but whether the average character of a
man's actions is such that the happiness of mankind is
thereby increased. From this point of view there can be
no doubt that it is in general better for a soldier to remain
at his post, and for a child who has fallen into the water to
be rescued. But this brings us to a further point, which
every ethical theory must take as a test of its practicability:
the question, namely, as to the relation it assumes between
the motive and the end of moral action, and the agreement
of its assumptions with the actual motives and consequences
of human acts.

The utilitarian theory g^ves a definite answer to this
question only so far as the end is concerned. The moral
end consists in the greatest good of the greatest number«
But as to the motives which impel men to strive for this
end, we get no satisfactory information. We are able»
however, to distinguish ttiH> tendencies here. The one^
represented especially by Bentham, but in part by Mill
also, inclines towards the reflection-ethics. True, it acknow-
ledges the importance of feeling, altruistic and egoistic ; but
its general conception of a motive is that of an intellectual
anticipation of the end to be attained ; and for the higher
stages of morality it requires a careful consideration of the
consequences of actions, in accordance with the principle of
utility. Thus it happens that the normal relation of motive
to end is completely reversed Normally, ^t feelings motive
our actions, while only by reflection can we know anjrthing
about the end, since all intellectual ends are parts of a
rational process of development But here we have it
postulated that the motive of every action should be the
greatest good of all, which would seem to be an intellectual

423-4] Eudcemonistic Systems 179

impossibility without the aid of a pretty complex process of
reflection; while the end consists in the well-being of as
many individuals as possible — that is, a sum of pleasurable
feelings. Now it is very doubtful whether reflection, apart
from feeling, can ever determine action. It may, indeed, be
assumed that the affective motive here consists in subjective
anticipation of the pleasures which our act will produce in
others. No one will deny that anticipated pleasure can
become a motive to action, and that even when the pleasure
is not ours but another's. But it is impossible to understand
the production of a collective feeling, such as seems to be
demanded here. The ' maximum of happiness ' can be only
a product of reflection; to be an eflective motive it must
take the form of a subjective feeling. The sole way out
of the difficulty is to adopt the ethics of feeling, while
postulating a control of the benevolent and ^oistic instincts
by the reason, so that the flnal decision shall always tend to
secure a maximum extent of happiness. Now, evidently,
a rational motive of this kind can urge one to action only
when it is itself accompanied by feelings of sufficient strength.
But how can the ^oistic impulse ever be conquered by
this far more remote desire to secure an equal relative
distribution of happiness among all mankind ? No one will
deny that there are impersonal motives which enable men to
sacrifice themselves for their neighbours or for humanity.
But that the computation of an extensive maximum of
happiness ever has possessed or e\'er will possess such a
magical power is highly improbable. There is no alternative
save to revive, as Bentham actually did, the doctrine of
Helvetius, that all moral motives are based on delusion, either
of self or of others, and exert a direct influence on action only
after their utilitarian character has become established. Now,
when we have once proved the absolute validity of moral
judgments, it may be allowable to derive a real virtue

1 80 General Criticism of Ethical Systems [424-5

from an apparent one after this fashion, for we can appeal
to the influence of habit, which Aristotle justly emphasises.
But to take such a process as the type of moral development
is self-contradictory. Error and illusion which publish them-
selves as reality may arise on the basis of reality, but reality
itself can never be wholly the product of illusion.

Evolutionary utilitarianism acknowledges the force of these
objections. It regards the end, the advantage of the human
species, as wholly independent of the possible motives which
may determine the will. These are more or less a matter of
indiflerence. Certain kinds of activity have in the course of
evolution proved useful to the species; individuals with a
tendency to such actions must be victorious in the struggle
for existence, whatever motives animate them. Now it is
certain that the struggle for existence is found in human
society. But if the analogy with animal selection were
complete there would be little prospect that benevolence
and unselfishness would come out ahead. Of two cocks in
the same farmyard, it is the more ambitious, the more
selfish, and the stronger that is left If the most powerful
and permanent instincts are to survive, then egoism will
have the best prospect of being strengthened by natural
selection. But the utilitarian evolutionist may answer:
This is all very well in special cases, but humanity as a
whole can continue to exist only if the altruistic tendencies
are victorious. If all cocks were to fight like those in the
same farmyard there would soon be none left to propagate
the species. My rejoinder would be that if the theory of
evolution is to explain how altruistic instincts persist in
the whole, it must prove the fact in particular instances.
We can understand why the strongest members of a species
survive, for we see that in special cases the strong conquer the
weak ; but we cannot understand how the unselfish instincts
can ever overcome the selfish ones, for the latter evidently

425-6] EucUrmonistic Systems i8i

have the advantage in every special instance. Nothing but
the forced introduction of some of the elements of the old
contract theory will solve the difficulty. We must suppose
that firom the outset men have seen the danger of immoderate
^[oism, and have exerted themselves to restrain it In this
way those whose natures were wild, defiant and lawless have
been gradually reduced in numbers, and will be still more
reduced in the future. The contrast between such an appli-
cation of the doctrine of evolution with the fundamental
principles of Darwinism is most striking. The latter
deduced the general history of development from the facts
of individual observation ; the theory of evolution transferred
to the moral realm constructs the particular facts to accord
with the supposed general course of development And here,
too, the determining motives which render possible the
preservation of altruistic traits are motives that arise from
reflection, though at an early stage of human development
Nor does the problem seem to me more successfully
solved when, with Herbert Spencer, one shifts the emphasis
from the psychical to the physical aspect of development
It is indeed conceivable that during the course of evolution
certain structures should have been built up in the nervous
system, and that thus tendencies to certain reflex and
automatic movements of a useful character should be in-
herited. Many observed facts ai^ue for such an assumption.
But how nervous tendencies become moral intuitions is, and
remains, a mystery. Even those physiologists and psy-
chologists who cherish the fantastic hypothesis that the
brain-cells bear ideas permanently stamped upon them, have
not yet ventured to assume that cells and ideas are handed
down from parents to children. The empirical evidence
for this psychological theory of heredity is still more dubious.
If we cannot even allow that such elementary facts of
consciousness as simple sensations or the space - intuition

1 82 Getteral Criticism of Ethical Systems [426

are innate, how can we speak of moral intuitions, — intuitions
which presuppose a number of complex empirical ideas
concerning the agent, his fellow-men, and his other relations
to the external world? And if we grant that these ideas
cannot possibly be given ready - formed, how are we to
reconcile the appearance on the scene of innate moral
instincts with the empirical origin of these ideas? How
are the inherited nervous tendencies to bring it about that
at the sight of a suffering or imperilled fellow -being the
impulses of sympathy, readiness to help, and self-sacrifice
shall be awakened? Actual neurology has about as much
connection with these assumptions as actual astronomy and
gec^raphy with Jules Verne's voyages of discovery. Com-
pared with this latest form of the doctrine of uüae intuUaey
the older, more naive view, which r^arded the principles of
morals, metaphysics and logic as christening-gifts of divine
bestowal, possessed at least the merit of simplicity.

But let us leave the discussion of the causes and motives
of moral action. Utilitarianism has always claimed as its
chief merit its applicability to practical life, and hence has
concerned itself rather with the moral end than with the
psychological conditions of moral phenomena. Now the
moral end was defined by the older utilitarians as the
welfare of all, while modem utilitarianism since Bentham
has more modestly stated it as the greatest possible happi-
ness of the majority. Ultra posse nemo obligatur^ —
humanity must content itself with creating as much happi-
ness as the conditions of existence allow. Modem
utilitarianism is inclined to interpret the conception of
happiness in the broadest possible way as regards quality,
and to allow the higher intellectual, aesthetic, and ethical
pleasures their full value. In fact, certain pleasures are
specially labelled as moral; for instance, the pleasures of
love and friendship, joy in the prosperity and freedom of

426-7] EucUBmonistic Systems 183

one's country, and in the performance of humane acts.
When we remember that the intellectual and particularly
the aesthetic pleasures may for the most part be included
in this ethical class, we shall have to define the maximum
of happiness thus : that is moral which furthers the general
distribution of morality.

But possibly the utilitarian would maintain that this logical
circle was inherent less in the nature of his argument than
in the inaccurate form of its expression. "All those
pleasures," he might say, " which we r^ard as pre-eminently
moral possess in a high d^free the property of increasing
our well-being. Granted that in special cases the sacrifice
of one friend for another, or of a hero for his country, may
have the opposite result ; our sentiments are not determined
by special cases, but by the general worth of the pleasure,
though we become aware of this only in particular examples."
This argument would very likely be unanswerable did not
utilitarianism itself resolve the worth of all sources of
happiness into the particular individual pleasures which
they occasion in ourselves or in others. The only use of
having a fatherland, for example, lies in the fact that it
assures to each of its citizens protection, security, and the
means of obtaining the other pleasures of life. The moral
value of its history, of the memory of our forefathers*
struggles and conquests, is purely imaginary; such things
are not in themselves pleasures, though they may be worthy
of high regard as having rendered possible our present state
of prosperity. Thus every one of the goods which might
have been regarded as general in character resolves itself
into a sum of separate and particular goods, each consisting
in some individual pleasure, either sensuous or intellectual.
And this brings us to a final point, and one which is, in my
opinion, decisive.

We have remarked before that a sum of separate and

184 General Criticism of Ethical Systems [427-8

individual happinesses, presenting itself to consciousness
only as an abstract idea, is not a thing to warm the human
heart, or to motive human actions. But since many moral
philosophers regard an action as more meritorious, the less
inclination we have towards it, this objection is perhaps not
final. We can, however, demand with equal justice : " Is this
sum of scattered and individual pleasures an end whose
objective value is great enough to atone for the sacrifices
which the moral law demands of us?" For the utilitarian,
humanity is made up of individual men, society of its
individual members. Since the whole exists only for the
sake of the individual, the ends which the latter pursue in
fulfilling their obligations to the whole must be in the last
analysis individual ends. In fact, the individual is all that is
real in the system, and one individual is just like another as
r^^ards his capacity for pleasure and pain. What, then, is
the special virtue of this repetition of the same pleasurable
feeling in as many distinct individuals as possible? A
mathematical theorem gains nothing by being demonstrated
over and over again. Two beings that agree in all their
attributes become as Leibniz has shown, by virtue of the
* Principium indiscemibiliuml one and the same being. Can
we claim, in opposition to this principle, that a feeling of
pleasure individualised a thousand times is worth a thousand
times more than it was in the banning? It may be
answered : " Yes, for the pleasure of number Two reacts upon
that of number One, and thus we have a thousand new
sources of pleasure." But how can this be, if there are no
pleasures except those that spring from individual welfare?
If individual happiness is the measure of moral values, then
for each individual this measure consists in his own greatest
well-being. It is incomprehensible that he should refuse to
augment his own happiness at the cost of his neighbour's ;
nor can we expect such a course from him, unless he is

428-9] EtuUemonistic Systems 185

actuated by the egoistic consideration that excessive selfish-
ness reacts to the detriment of its possessor. This is really
the standpoint of egoistic utilitarianism^ for which the
principle of the maximum of happiness means nothing.
For the most prudent egoist, if he were rich, would
hesitate to propose an equal division of property, save
to insure himself an income of which no one would attempt
to deprive him. As a matter of fact, social utilitarianism
is self-contradictory, because its fundamental assumptions
conflict with each other. It defines the moral end as the
welfare of the whole of human society, and then pro-
ceeds to resolve this whole into disconnected atoms. The
necessary correlative of an atomistic view of society is an
egoistic ethics. The latter conflicts with utilitarian doctrine,
but the utilitarian cannot avoid it He thus occupies an
untenable position between irreconcilable opposites. His
correct ethical instinct repudiates the egoism to which his
individualistic theory of society leads. The necessary
consequence is that the moral motive becomes an in-
explicable impulse, and the moral end an empty phantom,
masquerading as an ideal.

The Positivism of Auguste Comte, which avoids many of
the defects of Bentham's utilitarianism, especially in dis-
cussing the motive to altruism, likewise comes to grief
when it attempts to define the end in such a way as to
satisfy all the requirements of moral experience. Comte,
too^ tries to free himself from the restrictions of individualism
by means of his conception of society ; but the attempt is
vain, for like Ludwig Feuerbach he has no way of measuring
the ethical value of all those forms of society which lie
between the narrow circle of the family and the wide sphere
of humanity* Society, which he identifies now with the
State and now with humanity, is for him as for the
revolutionary moralists of the previous century, a sum of

1 86 General Criticism of Ethical Systems [429-30

individuals, governed by an authority which reconciles
conflicting interests, and thus furthers the common welfare.
While in Comte's first period his apotheosis of industrial
culture led him into an exaggeration of the utilitarian
tendency to include in the moral end sources of happiness
which are external and sometimes highly questionable in
their character ; in his last period he presents the spectacle
of one engaged in a fruitless effort to compensate for his
unsatisfactory theory of industrial culture by an obscure
humanitarian cult, half rational and half mystical.

4. EVOLUTIONARY ETHICAL SYSTEMS-
{a) Individucd Evolutionism.

The idea of a process of individual development is
involved to some extent in almost every ethical theory.
We detect it in the descriptions which the Stoics and
Epicureans give of the character of the wise man, no less
than in Aristotle's discussion of the value of the contempla-
tive life, or Spinoza's antithesis between spiritual freedom
and bondage, which in its turn recalls the analogous distinc-
tion between the state of grace and that of sin in the
Christian ethics. It is Leibniz^ however, who is the chief
modem representative of this ethical theory, and the whole
of German ethics in the last century followed his lead. The
watchword of the theory, 'Self-perfection,' found an echo
even in the Kantian ethics, with all its seriousness and lack
of sympathy with the self-satisfied mood of the Enlighten-
ment Kant makes individual perfection and the happiness
of others the two chief ends of moral endeavour. Fichte
and Schleiermacher, as their formulation of the moral law
indicates, ascribe even more importance to individual per-
fection.

But self-perfection in and of itself does not constitute

430-31] Evolutionary Ethical Systems 187

a moral principle. It merely furnishes the formal expression
for an ethical contents elsewhere obtained. Perfection is
necessarily the perfection of somethings which must be
present in some degfree even at the beginning of the process
of development And this something can only be happiness,
either individual or universal, according as the individual
finds his moral perfection to consist in the furthering of
his own or the general happiness. Perfectionism is thus
necessarily associated with either egoism or utilitarianism,
just as these theories usually include the idea of perfection.
Thus, in the Stoics and Epicureans, in Christian ethics under
a nobler aspect, and in Spinoza, we have an egoistic perfec-
tionism ; in Leibniz and his followers, perfectionism is
associated with utilitarianism; while Kant combines both
tendencies in demanding the happiness of others, and the
perfection of the individual. In all these cases we have to
meet the question as to what is meant by perfection. Since»
as is usually assumed, among the various kinds of goods»
sensuous, intellectual, aesthetic and ethical, the first named are
universally valuable only when they serve fnoral ends, perfec-
tion must relate chiefly to moral endeavour. But if we adhere
to the generally accepted principle that the end of all moral
action is the welfare of our fellow-men, then the striving for
perfection ultimately reduces itself to the principle of the
maximum of happiness. Consequently, Perfectionism in its
x'arious forms coincides with eudaemonism, and hence is open
to the same objections. Its superiority lies in the fact that
it lays more stress on the duty of moral self-development

{b) Universal Evolutionism.

This theory resembles the foregoing in regarding morality
as actualised in a process of development But in this
infinite process the individual consciousness is only an insig-
nificant factor. The real subject of moral life is the

1 88 General Criticism of Ethical Systems [431-2

universal Thought, which unfolds itself in the development
of mankind, and whose manifestions are art, religion, the
State, the legal order, and above all, the process of history.
Thus, as in the Hegelian philosophy, extreme universalism
becomes an historical system^ which takes account of the
realm of subjective morality only in so far as the individual
either submits himself to the universal will, thus representing
and fulfilling it, or holds aloof from it, in which case his
action is worthless, and completely lost in the process of
universal development Since, however, history is a thing
•given,' of which we can only say that it is, not that it
ought to be thus and so, moral judgments are deprived
of the significance which is commonly ascribed to> them.
True, we can estimate the lower stages by the higher, but
we must recognise the fact that both lower and higher are
justifiable and even necessary. Heel's law, 'AH that is
real is rational,' may be transformed into the statement that
'all that is real is moral' Universal evolutionism thus
avoids the objection to which individual evolutionism is liable,
namely, that of being reducible to eudaemonism. But at
the same time it effaces the limits which separate morality
from other realms, and to which morality owes its norma-
tive influence on the will. However, this standpoint is
far superior to the theories which emphasise only the sub-
jective and individual forms of morality, in that it recognises
a real moral force in the social will. If the extreme historical
form of the theory pushes this principle so far as to lose
sight of individual morality almost altogether, and to resign
the normative function for the most part to positive law,
the reason is to be found chiefly in the fact that it r^[ards
the individual will as a mere instrument of the social will,
whereas history itself teaches us that it is really the indi-
vidual wills which determine the tendency of the social wilL
Ethical universalism may claim the undeniable merit of

432] Evolutionary Ethical Systems 189

having shown that in order to do justice to the profundity
and importance of the problems of ethics, the social will
must be conceived as something more than the sum of
individual impulses. Nor have the more moderate adherents
of this view, especially Schleiermacher and Krause, failed
to lay great stress on the value of the individual moral
personality. On the other hand, these thinkers are in their
turn inferior to the extreme supporters of the theory, because
while they postulate a relation between the individual and
the social will in which the latter maintains its independent
significance, they do not show what the relation is, at least
in such a manner as to satisfy our modem scientific require-
ments.

Any attempt at such a demonstration must adopt the
genetic method of investigation. It must set out from the
individual will as that which is given in immediate percep-
tion, and must then show how from the original character-
istics of this will and the conditions to which it is subject,
there develop the motives and laws of conduct, which,
transcending the individual consciousness, point to a social
will, embodied in individuals, and embracing in its broader
purposes their several life problems.

INDEX OF NAMES

Abelard, 42

Academy, Platonic, 31

Ahrens, 150 a

Alexander of Macedon, 24

Anselm of Canterbaiy, 41, 46

Antisthenes, 9

Aristippus, 9

Aristotle, 5, 17, i7-«4, «5. «6. 27, 31,

44,54,68, 114, 174, iw>. «»
Arminians, 53
Augustine, 3J-41, 43» 45» 4«, 5»» 7«

Bacon, 54-6, 57, 58» 62, 63, 69, 78, 9*,

142» «43» 175
Bentham, 142-146, I47» 15»» «5«» »55»

«5«» «59» «68, 169, 173, «74, «76,

178, 182, 185
Bernoulli, 391
Bouillier, 90 n.
Buchanan, N., 38 n.

CalTin, 50. 53

Carteynt, 89

Chfysippos, i$

OaAf, Sam«, 66

Comte, i47-i5«» >» I53t «S7, 158»

185, 186
Cttdwortb, J9-60
Cumberland, 60-62, 68
Cynics, 9, 25
Cyrenaics,9, 30

Dwwin, 153-4, «SS. «59» 1««

Democrittts, t, 4

Descartes, 38, 6(H 84, 87-89, 91, 93,

103, 106
Dio^nes of Sinope, 25
Dominicans, 42
Dumont, E., I4<n-
DunsScottts, 45

Eleatict, 3

Epicureans, 9. Hf «8-30, 31, 168, 186^

Epicurus, 30 [187

Eudemos, 24

Erdmann, 66 n^ 73 n.» 89n., 98n.

Feuerbach, 139-141» '50, 151, 185
Fichte, 1 19-124, 125, 127, 128, 129,

173. «86
Franciscans, 42
Frederick the Great, 119

Gaso, W., 38 n.
Gassendi, 84
Geulinx, 89-90
Geyer, 38J n.
Gisycki, 07 n.
Gnostics, 35, 36
Gorgias, 6

Hamack, 38 n.

Hartley, 72-3. 75. «3. 169

Hegel, 124-7, 12«» 130, 133. 138» «39»

141, 147» 153» 188
Heinze, M., 3 n.
Helvetius, 84-6, 146, 179
Heraditus, 3, 4
Herbart, 135-139
Herder, 105
Hobbes,^6-59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 146,

167, IÄ, 169
Holbach, 85
Holtzendorfl; 385 n.
Hume, 74-79» 80, 81, 82, 83, 107, 142,

14J, 168, 169. 170, 174
Hutdiesoo, 73-4, 76, 78, 172, 173, 174

Intellectualists, 59-^ 61, 64, 65-6,

69» 71
Irenaeus, 36

Jesuits, 47
Jodl, 151 n.

Kant, 8, 106-119, 120, 122, IS4, ij6,
^ 129, 167, 172» 186, 187
Kirchmann, von, 167 n.
Knuise, 127, 130-3, 139, 189

Latitudinarians, 53

Leibniz, 97-104, 105, 106^ I18, 125,
138, 166, 172, 184, 186, 187

192

Index of Names

Lessing, 64, 105

Locke, 62-65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 71» 7^,
76, 81, 84, 102, 104, 105, 106, 142,
145, 146, 152, 156, 166, 168, 169

Malebranche, 90-91» 'O^

Mandeville, 72, 84, 85, 146, 168

Manichecs, 36, 39

Mendelssohn, Moses, 105

Mill, J. S., 151-3. 'S». 159. 168, 169,

173, 175» 176
More, Henry, 60 n,

Neo-Platonists, 31-32, 35
Newton, 66
Nominalists, 49

Paley, 71

Paul, 34, 4«. 45

Pelagians, S3

Pelagius, 39, 40, 4«

Peripatetics, 31

Plato, 5, 9. 10-17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 23,

25, 26. 31, 34. 36. 37» 39, 92. "07.

108, 109, no, III, 113» »16, 120,

122, 12$, 150
Pünjcr, 53 n.
Pythagoreans, 270

Röder» 1300.
Rousseau, 86-7

Schelling, 130

Schleiermacher, 127-130, 132, 133, 173»

186, 189
Schopenhauer, 133-4» '72
Schubert, Joh., 79 »•
Shaftesbury, 67-71, 73» 74. 76, 13^»

171, 174
Sidgwick, 404 n., 410 n.
Smith, Adam, 79-83. »42, 145. '70
Socrates, 5-9, lo, ii, I4i 16, 19, 23,

25,26
Sophists, 4-5, 168
Spencer, 154-157. 158, '59. 181
Spinoza, 92 97, 98, 99, loo, loi, X02,

103, III, 122, 124, 125, 126
Stephen, Leslie, 158
Stoics, 9, 24, 25-28. 29, 30. "«» '87
Swedenborg, 380

Thomas Aquinas, 44-6, 48
Thomists, 49, 53

William of Occam, 48
Wolff, 104-5. '07
WoUaston, 66

Xenophanes, 3
Xenophon, 5, 6 n.

Zdler, 240.
Zeno, 26

Ziegler, 3n., 38 lu
Zoroaster, 36
Zwingli, 50

INDEX OF SUBJECTS

Adaptation, in Spencer's sjrstem, 155

Adiaphora^ 26

^Esthetics: Plato's attempt to relate

morelitv and, 12-3; relation in

Shaftesbury, 68; in Herbart, 136.

See Art, and Beautiful, Idea oL
Alexandrian Period, characteristics, 24
Altruism: in Leibniz, 100; egoistic

origin of, Bentham, 146; term first

used b^ Comte, 149 ; not explained

hf egoistic util. of reflection, 169.

äee Altruistic utiL ; see Benevolence
Apathy, Stoic, 27
Asceticism, tendency in Plato, bow

checked, 14 ; in Stoics, 27 ; in

Christianity, 37
Association: Hartley, 73; egoistic utiL

of, 169-71
Ataraxia^ Efncurean, 29
Atonement, doctrine of: influence in

early Church, 34; Augustine, 39;

Anselm, 41 ; Luther and Calvin, <3
Authoriutive ethical systems: i^,

164; error in inversion of ethical

causality, 165 ; three stages of rdi-

gious heteronomy, 166-7 ; merits o(

167-8
Autonomy in ethics: maintained by

Shaftesbur]r, 7a See Eudsemonism

and Evolutionism

Beautiful, Idea of the : sensuous form
of Idea of the Good, Plato, 12-13 ;
resemblance to virtue, Shaftesbury,
68. See i€sthetics

Benevolence : innate in human nature,
Cumberland, 61 ; Shaftesbuiy, 68 ;
such an assumption unnecessary,
Locke, 63, 65; essence of virtue,
Hutcheson, 73-4; not moral motive,
Kant, 111; extreme altruistic utiL,
171-3. See Altruism

Cunbridge mofalists, 59 ff.

Casuistiy, 47

Christian Ethics: three points of dis-
tinction from Pligan Ethics, 33;

influence of doctrine of atonement,
34 ; of Platonic, Stoic, Neo-Platonic
and Oriental ideas, 35 ; asceticism,
37 ; source of power of, 37 ; charac-
ter of constnunt, 38; influence of
doctrine of predestination, 39; intd-
lectualising of, 45-47 ; influence of
Crusades, 43; of Reformation, 48-

Church, the : influence of, 34, 38, 42
Common sense in morals, 175
Conscience: emphasised by Abdard,

42; intellectual character of, Thomas

Aquinas, 46 ; Adam Smith on, 82 ;

self-directed moral judgment, Kant,

115; duty consists in following,

Fichte, 123
Contemplative life: Aristotle, 23;

Stoics, 27 ; monastidsm, 46-7 ;

Spinoca, 06; Fichte, 123; Hegd,

124 ; Herbait, 139
Crusades, influence of, 43-4

Development, idea of : in Leibnis, 102 ;

lacking in Spinoza, 102, 103, 104;

influence in Hegel, 125 ; in Comte,

147. See Evolutionism
Duty: Kant's conception of, ill, no;

Schleiermacher on, 128. See ObU-

gation

Egoism: in the Sophists, 4; in later
scholasticism,49;solemotive, Hobbes,
58; Locke, 63; original in human
nature, Paley, 71-2; sole motive,
Mandeville, 72 ; in Spinoia, 100 ;
not an indqxndent ethical principle,
168; attitude of extreme altnusts
towards, 172-3

Emotions: emphasised by Cumberland»
61 ; three classes of, Shaftesbuiy, 67 ;
contents of virtue, Shaftesbury, 69 ;
active and passive, Spinoca, 94. See
Feelings, Passions

Empiricism: origin, $1-3; empirical
systems, 54-87 ; relation to realism.

194

Index of Subjects

135 ; in classifying ethical systems»
162

End, the moral : public utility, Bacon,
56 ; individual wel£ire, Hobbes, 59 ;
common welfiure, Cumberland, 60;
Locke, 65 ; inner blessedness,
Shaftesbury, 70; emphasised by
realistic ethics, 135; realisation of
moral ideas, Herbart, 136; Ben-
tham's conception of, 142-3; relation
betw. end and motive. Mill, 152 ;
classification of ethical systems based
on, 161, 16^ E ; relation betw. motive
and end m utilitarianism, 178-9;
criticism of util. end, 184. See
Summum Bonum

Eudaemonism : of Socrates, 8 ; of the
Cyrenaics, 9; of the Epicureans, 30;
eudaemonistic systems, 168 ff.; per-
fectionitm reducible to, 187. See
Egoism and Utilitarianism

Evil: arises from matter, Plato, 12;
modification of Platonic doctrine in
Christian Ethics, 34, 37; doctrine of
the Manichees on, 36; of Irenaras,
^7 ; of Augustine, 39 ; of Descartes,
88 ; of Maleoranche, 90-1 ; of Leib-
nk, 101-2; of Krause, 131

Evolutionism : objective, Hegel, 1 25;
Comte, 147 ; subjective, Darwin,
153 fl^; Spencer 154 fil ; individual,
164, 186 ff. ; universal, 164, 187 fil
See Development

Family, the : social unit, Comte, 149-50
Feeling: prior to reflection, Mill, 152;
sole moral motive in altruistic util.,
172; ethics of, 161-2; in Cumber-
land, 62 ; Shaftesbury, 67 ; Hutche-
son, 73-4 ; Hume, 76 ; Adam Smith,
79-83 ; Rousseau, 86 ; egoistic utiL
of, 169 fr.
Friendship : Stoics on, 28 ; Epicureans
00,29,30

Good, the : Plato's conception of, 10- 1 1 ,
12. See End ; Summum Bonum

Goods, external : indispensable to hap-
piness, Aristotle, 21-2 ; higher
estimate in "Lam-s," Plato, 17;
morally indifferent. Stoics, 26; em-
phasised by Bentham, 144

Himpiness : the Summum Booum,
Anstotle, 18; in Kant*s system, 112;
Bentham's conception of, 144
Heredity: Spencer on, iß6, 181-2
Heteronomy. See Authoritative Systems

History : undue emphasis in Heeel,
126; repeats stages of individual
erowth, Krause, 132 ; Schopen-
hauer's view of, 134 ; three stages of,
Comte, 147-8 ; Spencer's individual-
istic philosophy of, 157 ; in universal
evolutionism, 188

Ir^^alism, ethics of, 119 fr.

Ideas, Herbart's moral, 136-7

Ideas, Platonic : ethical origin of doc-
trine, 1 1 ; Aristotle's opposition to,
17-18

Imperative, categorical : fordl^ to
bocrates, 8; stated, 114; criticised,
115 fr.

Individualism : in Helvetius, 85 ; in
Spincoa, 96 ; in Fichte, 121 ; in
Schleiermacher, 129; in Herbart's
metaphysic, 138; in Feuerbach, 141 ;
in Spencer's phil. of history, 157^ in
extreme altruism, 173

Innate moral ideas : Cudworth, 60 ;
Locke, 62-3; Leibniz, 103; Spencer,
156, 181-2

Insight : in Aristotle's classif. of vir*
tues, 22 ; in Epicurean ethics, 29

Intellectualism : scholastic, 45 ff. ; of
Hobbes, 56 ; of Cudworth, 60 ; of
Locke, 65 ; of younger intellectualbts,
65 ff. ; of Descartes, 88 ; of Leibniz,
99; of Wolff, 105; of Herbart, 137

Intelligible world: Kant's theory of,
109; impossible to keep distinct
from phenomena] world, 1 13 ff. ; re-
conciliation with phenomenid world,
Fichte, ii9ff. ; Hegel, 124

Intuitionism, 162

Justice: Platonic virtue, 14^ 15, 17;
Aristotle on, 21 ; artifioal virtue,
Hume, 77 ff. ; Adam Smith's view
of, 81

Law, civil: obedience to necenary,

Socrates, 8 ; supremacy of, Hobbes,

56-7 ; Locke's conception of, 64 ;

origin of^ Hume, 78; Krause on, 132;

Herbart on, 136
Law, moral : two sources, Socrates, 7 ;

objective reality of, Clarke and

WoUaston, 65-6; Paley on, 71;

Kant on, no, 114; Fichte, lao;

agreement as to contents of, 160
Law, natural: Bacon, 54; Hobbes, 56;

Cumberland, 61 ; Locke, 63 £ ;

Bentham, 145

Index of Stibjects

195

Law, reli^ous : Socrates, 7 ; Hobbes,
57-8 ; Cudworth, 60 ; Locke, 63-4 ;
Benthaxn, 145 ; relation to moral law
in religious heteronomy, 165 flf.

Logos: Neo- Platonic and Christian
doctrines of, 35

Love : Platonic doctrine of, 12 ; in
Christian Ethics, 33 ; love of God,
Malebranche, 91 ; Spinoza, 95 ;
moral principle, Comte, 149, 150

Lux naturalis : Bacon, 54 ; Locke, 64.
See Law, natural

Marriage: Plato in "Laws," 17;
Stoics on, 28 ; Epicureans on, 29

Materialism: in Epicureans, 30;
French, 84 ff. ; German, 139 ff.

Motive : intensity and duration tests of
moral, Socrates, 5 ; of virtue, Plato,
10; emphasised by Abelard, 42;
self-love the only, Hobbes, 58;
Locke, 65 ; emotional character of,
Shaftesbury, 69; pleasure and pain
as, Bentham, 145; classification of
S]^ems ace. to, 160, 161 ff.; relation
to end in utilitarianism, 178

Mysticism : Neo-Platonic, 32 ; ChristJany
4«-3

Naturalism, German, 139 ff.

Nature : in Fichte's system, 121 ; in
Scfaleiermacher, 127-8

Nature, Sute of: Hobbes, 58; Cum-
berland, 61 ; Locke, 63 ; Helvetius,
85 ; Rousseau, 86

Neo-Platonism, 31-2; Kranse's rela-
tion to, 130- 1

Obligation: Shaftesbury's insufficient
account of, 70; unexplained bv
Herbart, 137 ; four spheres of,
Schleiermacher, 129 ; emphasised by
heteronomous systems, 107

Occasionalism, 89 ff.

Opinion, public: corrects dvil law,
Locke, 64; sanction of, Bentham,
145 ; test of distinction in pleasures,
MUl, 152

Panentheism : Krause, 131.
.hmtheism : in Stoics, 27 ; relation of

Malebranche to, 91 ; in Spinoca, 92

ff.; in Fichte, ii9ff.
Furious: source of evil. Stoics, 27;

Descartes on, 88. See Emotions
Perfectionism: in Leibniz, 102 ff.; in

Wolff, 104-5; criticism of, 186-7.

See Evolutionism

Pleasure: sensuous w., spiritual.
Epicureans, 30; test of maximum
pleasure, Bentham, 143; pleasure
and pain as motives, Bentham, 144 ;
distinctions in kind, Mill, 151-2

Politics: relation to ethics, Plato,
16 ; Aristotle, 18 ; Bentham, 143

Positivism : 147 ff., 185-6.

Pre-Socratic ethics, 1-5

Property, Hume's conception of, 79;
importance of, Bentham, 143 ; equal
distribution of, Bentham, 144

Reason : activitv of, constitutes happi-
ness, Aristotle, 18-19; theoreUcal
and practical, 19; emanation from
Divine Reason, Cudworth, 60 ; sub-
ordinate ftmction in Hutcheson's
system, 74 ; objective reason, Hegel,
124 ff ; Schleiermacher, 127-8 ;
function in Bentham's system, 145 ;
ethics of, 161 ff.

Reflection: Cumberland on, 62; Locke»
63, 65; introduced to explain justice,
Hume, 77; function in moiml life,
Adam Smith, 80; egoistic util. of, 169

Reformation : ethics of, 49-52 ; source
of German Materialism, 140

Relativity of moral ideas: Sophists,
4; Darwin, 154; Spencer, 155$
Stephen, 158

Religion, relation to morality : in later
s^olastidsm, 48; in Reformation,
51 ; after Reformation, 53; in Bacon,
54; in Hobbes, 56-7; in Locke,
63-4; in Shaftesbury, 69; in
Hutcheson, 74; in Hume, 78; in
Adam Smith, 82; in Kant, 118; in
Feuerbach, 140-1 ; in religious
heteronomy, 165-7

Republic, Plato's: 14-16; resemblance
to, in Fichte's politics, 122; in
Comte's ideal society, 150

Sage, ideal of the: Stoic, 37;

Epicurean, 29 f.
Sanctions, Bentham's four : 45
Scholasticism : aim, 41 ; of Ansdm,
41 ; of Abelard, 42 ; relation to
mysticism, 43 ; influence of crusades,
43; of discovery of, ArtstoUe, 44;
Thomas Aquinas, 45 ; intellectualism
of, 46 ; barrenness of ethics of, 47
Selection, Natural : Darwin, I J3-4
Society: Comte's theory o( 148;
Spacer's, 156-7; Stephens', 158;
atomistic view of, held by mo&m
ntilitarians, 185 ; by Comte, 185-6

196

Index of Subjects

Soomtic Schools,

State, the : Plato^s ideal, 14 flf. ; Epi-
curean indifference 10,29; Fichte on,
121 ; Hegel, 126-7 ; Schleiermacher,
129 ; Krause, 131-2 ; Schopenhauer,
134; Comte, i4iS. See Sodetv

Substance: Spinoza's theory of, 94,
103 ; Leibniz* theory of, 97-8, IQ2

Suicide : Stoics on, 27

Summum Bonum: Plato on, 11;
Aristotle on, 18 ; theory of Kant,
1 12-3; of Schleiermacher, 128. See
End, Üie moral

Sympathy: Hume, 75, 170; Adam
Smith, 80 ff., 170; Spinoza, 96;
Sdiopenhauer, 134; Feuerbach, 140;
compared with altruism, 149;
Stepnen, 158; in extreme altruistic
theories, 172

Understanding : relation to will, Des-
cartes, 88 ; Afalebranche, 91 ; ethics
o^ x6i ff.

Utilitarianism : unsatisfactory term for
modem eudsemonism, 176

Utilitarianism, altruistic: 171 ff.; ex-
treme, 172 flf.; moderate, 174 flf.

Utilitarianism, egoistic: Kant's rela-
tionto, 117; criticised, 168 ff.

Utilitarianism, theological : Cumber-
land its precursor, 62; of Paley,
71-2 ; Kant's relation to, 118

A^rtne, nature of: Socrates on, 6;
Plato, II ; Aristotle, 19-21 ; Stoics,
26-7; Epicureans, 29; Bacon, 55;
Shaftesbury, 67-8; Hutcheson, 73;
Sfnnoza, 95; Leibniz, 100; Kant,
111-12; Fichte, 122-3; Schleier-
macher, 128

Virtues, classification of the: Plato,
15-16, 17; Aristotle, 19, 22; Stoics,
26 ; Thomas Aquinas, 45 ; Schleier-
macher, 129

Virtues, unity of the: assumed bv Plato,
10; abandoned in Repubbc, 16;
denied by Aristotle, 20; reasserted
by Stoics, 26

Welfiire, common : conception of Bacon,
55 ; of Hobbes, 59 ; of Cumberland,
6off. ; of Bentham, 143 ff. ; of Dar-
win, 154 ; in altruistic utilitarianism,
171 ff.; unsatisfactory moral standard,
177 ff. ; reducible to sum of individual
welfures, 184 E

Wel&re, individual : conception of.
Bacon, 55 ; of Hobbes, 59 ; of Cum-
berland, 61-2

Will, freedom of: Augustine on, 39;
Pelagius, 40; Thomas Aquinas, 4C;
Wm. of Occam and Duns Sootus, 48 ;
Lather and Calvin, 51 ; Arminians
and Latitndinarians, 53 ; Hume, 75;
Descartes, 88; Occasionalists, 90;
Malebcmnche, 90; Spinoza, 93;
T^'hniz, 99; Kant, 110, iii, 113

Will, nature of: the specificall]|r moral
fiKuIty, Aristotle, 19-20; in Re-
formation ethics, 51 ; relation to
understanding and passions, Des-
cartes, 88-9 ; relation to understand-
ing, Malebranche, 91 ; five relations
of will, Herbart, 136 ; Feuerbacfa 00,
140

Wonder, Descartes on, 89

World-will: Hegel, 126; Schopen-
hauer, 134; Herbart, 138; in uni«
▼ersalism, 188 E

rLVMoom

WtLUAM IBBIIOON AKD SON, rttimaS

THE LIBRARY OF PHILOSOPHY.

The library OF PHILOSOPHY is in the first instance
a contribution to the History of Thought While much has
been done in England in tracing the course of evolution in
nature, history, religion, and morality, comparatively little
has been done in tracing the development of Thought upon
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This Library will deal mainly with Modem Philosophy,
partly because Ancient Philosophy has already had a fair
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By the co-operation of different writers in carrying out
this plan, it is hoped that a completeness and thoroughness
of treatment otherwise unattainable will be secured. It is
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fuller consideration of English Philosophy than it has hitherto
received from the great German Histories of Philosophy may
be looked for. In the departments of Ethics, Economics» and
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the common stock of theoretic discussion have been especially
valuable, and these subjects will accordingly have special
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Another feature in the plan of the Library is its arrange-
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The historical portion of the Library is divided into two
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General Editor.

ALREADY PUBLISHED.

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English Translation. Edited by Williston S. Hough, M.Ph., Professor
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Fellow of University College, Oxford. [Second Series.

The Development of Rational Theology since Kant. By Professor Otto

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Philosophy and Political Economy in some of their Historical Re-
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Appearance and Reality. By F. H. Bradley, M.A., Fellow of Merton

College, Oxford.
Natural Rights. By David G. Ritchie, Professor of Logic and Metaphysics

in the University of St. Andrews. [Third Series.

Sigwart*8 Logic. Translated by Helen Dendy. 2 vols. [Fourth Series.
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Early Idealism : Descartes to Leibnttx. By W. L. Courtney, M.A., LL.D.

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Principle op Evolution in its Scientific and Philosophical Aspects. By

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The History of Psychology : Empirical and Rational. By Robert Adamson,

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The History op the Philosophical Tendencies op the Ninetbbnth

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First Principles op Philosophy. Bv John Stuart Mackenzie, M.A.,

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The Theory op Ethics. By Edward Cairo, LL.D., Master of Balliol College,

Oxford, late Professor of Moral Philosophy, University of Glasgow.
Epistemology ; or, The Theory op Knowledge. By James Ward, D.Sc.,

LL.D., Fellow and Lecturer of Trinity College, Cambridge.
Principles op Instrumental Logic. By John Dewey, Pb.D., Professor of

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